New Blood Rising
by JediSpartanF013
Summary: (Legends-based crossover) Against all odds, the Yuuzhan Vong have been defeated. But now, the fledgling Galactic Alliance is drawn into yet another conflict against another deadly enemy - the bloodthirsty Kilrathi Empire!
1. Introduction

_**NEW BLOOD RISING**_

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 **Author's note**

I actually wrote this story back in 2010, before Disney purchased Lucasfilm. It was intended to be the first in a trilogy, and I intended to write all three of them before publishing them as fanfics. Unfortunately, after this first one was completed, I more or less forgot about the whole thing. As a result, the first one was never published, and the other two were never even written.

So, after many years, I finally decided to post what I wrote up. Unfortunately, this will include only the first story. I have since moved on to other projects, so the likelihood of me doing them is very slim at best. At the very least, you can read and enjoy this one.

This story is effectively a crossover between _Star Wars_ and _Wing Commander_ , but exists in something of a combined alternate reality. I started this before the acquisition of Lucasfilm by Disney, so it follows the old 'Legends' timeline, however some events occur a little bit differently. For the most part, things happen as they originally did until halfway through the Yuuzhan Vong War, but then the divergence occurs. For a more detailed explanation, consult the timeline below.

As for the _Wing Commander_ elements, the only ones that shall be appearing are the Kilrathi race, and that alone has undergone a few changes. Basically, they are a race from deep in the Unknown Regions, and have not been seen by anyone in the 'known' galaxy before. Some of the more notable Kilrathi will also appear, such as the Emperor, his grandson Thrakhath, and 'Hobbes'. Apart from that, there is no Earth, no Terran Confederation, no Christopher Blair, no 'Maniac' Marshall, or anything of the sort from the Human side. So, no, the two versions of Mark Hamill will **not** be coming face to face with each other.

Basically, I just wanted to create my own _Star Wars_ story, and decided to use villains from another sci-fi story. I've always thought the Kilrathi were pretty interesting, so I chose them and transplanted them into the _Star Wars_ galaxy. Much of the information I learned about them, including a glossary of some of their language, comes from a website called 'the Tomes of Sivar', which includes in-depth detail of the Kilrathi race and culture. (Sivar is the name of the deity of the primary Kilrathi religion.)

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 **Timeline of events**

(NOTE: The following timeline adheres to the original 'Legends' continuity up until 27 years after the Battle of Yavin.)

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 **25 years after the Battle of Yavin (ABY)** – Through the corridor of space that comes to be known as Vector Prime, the extragalactic Force-blind alien race called the Yuuzhan Vong launch their invasion of the galaxy. Their first major atrocity is the destruction of the planet Sernpidal, done so by using doval basins to pull its moon out of orbit and send it crashing into the planet. This act causes the deaths of countless millions. Just prior to this, the Skywalker-Solo family attempt to rescue as many people as they can, and only just manage to escape before the impact. Tragically, this is not without a heavy price, as Chewbacca the Wookiee is among those who perish.

The New Republic and their allies have no choice but to declare war on the Yuuzhan Vong, and the deadliest conflict in the history of the galaxy has now begun.

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 **25-27 ABY** – For two years, the Yuuzhan Vong inflict devastating losses upon the galaxy, ravaging thousands of worlds and killing untold billions. Driven by intense technophobia and religious fervour, the alien invaders have an intense hatred of droids and anything mechanical, considering them to be abominations. They also despise the Jedi, viewing them as the most unholy of infidels, and demand they be turned over. This causes many groups to actually side with the Yuuzhan Vong, the most notorious being the Peace Brigade, who claim to specialise in hunting down and capturing Jedi.

The Peace Brigade claims that by siding with the invaders, they are ensuring that the galaxy remains somewhat secure for when the war is finally over. Ironically, they do not realise that in the Yuuzhan Vong language, the word for 'peace' is the same one used for 'submission'. Nonetheless, the invaders continue to advance through the galaxy, pushing towards the Core Worlds.

Despite all of the horrendous events that are occurring, and the sadness that is still felt over Chewbacca's death, there is one cause for celebration in the Skywalker-Solo family: Luke Skywalker and his wife Mara Jade Skywalker finally become parents with the birth of their son Ben, named after the alias used by Obi-wan Kenobi during his long exile on Tattooine.

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 **27 ABY** – The New Republic's war against the Yuuzhan Vong reaches a climax as a Jedi strike force is sent on a mission to an enemy facility located in orbit above the planet Myrkr. The Yuuzhan Vong are breeding a creature known as voxyn, specifically to hunt down and eliminate Jedi. The Jedi infiltrate the facility to locate the voxyn queen and destroy it. During the mission, nearly half of the participants lose their lives, and the team leader, Anakin Solo, son Han Solo and Leia Organa, is seriously injured. After his elder brother Jacen dispatches the queen, they evacuate and head for the nearest New Republic base, where Anakin is given medical treatment. He manages to survive, but lapses into a coma, and will not awaken for several weeks.

Despite neutralising the voxyn threat, the war effort receives a serious blow with the news that the Yuuzhan Vong have captured the galactic capital planet of Coruscant. New Republic Chief of State Borsk Fey'lya is killed, but he still manages to take out thousands of Yuuzhan Vong, due to a device attached to his heart, which detonated a powerful explosive device upon his death. Despite their victory, the invaders suffer heavy losses, and their hold on Coruscant is not as strong as they intended. Nonetheless, they begin the process of 'Vongforming' the planet, whereupon they intend to replace the towering metal skyscrapers with organic structures more akin to their beliefs.

With the fall of Coruscant, the New Republic ceases to exist.

On Hapes, the former Queen Mother, Ta'a Chume, attempts to regain control by assassinating her daughter-in-law, Queen Teneniel. However, the Queen's daughter, Jedi Knight Tenel Ka, and several of her frellow Jedi friends arrive in time to prevent the assassination. Ta'a Chume is apprehended and placed under house arrest, where she will remain for several years.

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 **28 ABY** – Anakin Solo emerges from his coma, and the Jedi rally together to take the fight deep into the heart of the enemy. The shattered remnants of the New Republic reorganise themselves into the Galactic Federation of Free Alliances, more commonly referred to as the Galactic Alliance. Along with factions such as the Imperial Remnant, Hapes Consortium, Chiss Ascendancy and even the Mandalorians, they begin making decisive strikes against the Yuuzhan Vong, attempting to wear them down as much as possible.

During the fighting, the Jedi receive a message in the Force. Following its trail, they locate a living planet called Zonoma Sekot, which is actually the seed of the original Yuuzhan Vong homeworld, having left their home galaxy millennia ago. The living world agrees to help the Jedi and their allies end the war.

Amongst the Yuuzhan Vong themselves a growing number of dissidents begin to question their beliefs and their campaign of conquering the galaxy. This causes large numbers of them being dubbed 'heretics' by those still loyal to the Supreme Overlord Shimmra Jammanee. Internal strife erupts into open fighting and the 'heretics' leave, and they will ultimately announce their defection to the Galactic Alliance. Despite initial trepidation, the GA accepts them, which in turn bolsters their forces and actually reduces the amount of anti-Yuuzhan Vong feeling that is running rife in the galaxy.

Tragedy strikes yet again as the Jedi launch another mission on a critical enemy facility, located in orbit over an unnamed planet on the fringes of the Core Worlds. Anakin Solo once again leads the strike team, which is tasked with destroying the Yuuzhan Vong biochemical weapons capability. During the attack, Anakin is seriously injured like before, but this time, he does not make it out alive. Triggering a massive explosion, Anakin kills himself, but also destroys the facility and wipes out much of the feared Shaper caste.

Despite their sadness over the situation, the Skywalker-Solo family knows that Anakin's death is not in vain. With their military and scientific capabilities crippled beyond repair, it is just a matter of time before the Yuuzhan Vong are defeated. Unfortunately, they will not surrender, but fight to the very end.

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 **29 ABY** – The Galactic Alliance, Imperial Remnant, Hapes Consortium, Chiss Ascendancy, Mandalorians, Zonoma Sekot, Yuuzhan Vong rebels, and other allied factions launch an all-out assault on enemy occupied Coruscant, which is in the process of being terraformed to suit the Yuuzhan Vong's needs. What follows is the final and largest battle of the war, and one of the biggest in the history of the galaxy altogether. Millions perish on both sides.

Luke Skywalker, along with his niece and nephew, Jaina and Jacen Solo, infiltrate the Citadel of the Supreme Overlord. In a duel, Skywalker manages to kill Shimmra, but receives an unexpected surprise; his death was meant to cause the organic Citadel to begin to die, but it did not. Therefore, Shimmra was not the true Supreme Overlord. It is revealed that Omini, the deformed court jester, has actually been controlling him the whole time. Amazingly, unlike other Yuuzhan Vong, Omini can sense and use the Force, and has been using it to create mind-controlling chemicals in his own body which he secretly exposed Shimmra to, turning him into his puppet. Omini engages the Solo twins in a duel, and he appears to have them at his mercy, but they join their powers together and turn Omini's own abilities against him, causing the chemicals to dissolve his body. His death causes the Citadel to begin dying, and remaining Yuuzhan Vong either surrender or choose to commit suicide.

After the war officially comes to an end, the terms of surrender are laid out. The surviving Yuuzhan Vong are placed on Zonoma Sekot, to be watched over by the living planet. Those who willingly defected to the Alliance are given more freedom. Most choose to settle on Zonoma Sekot anyway, but some opt to remain in Alliance territory for the time being, learning to overcome their stigma against technology and starting diplomatic relations with the rest of the galaxy. A number of them even decide to join the Alliance military.

With the fighting now over, the galaxy attempts to rebuild itself and move forward to peace.

Tragically, not even the most foresighted of Jedi Masters can see that another devastating war is looming on the horizon.

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 **30 ABY** – In the later months of the year, a Galactic Alliance research vessel is venturing into the Unknown Regions, and comes across a ship the likes of which had not been seen before. Establishing contact with it, the vessel broadcasts various greetings. But for nearly thirty minutes, nothing happens. Suddenly, laser turrets appear on the ship's hull, and blast the Alliance vessel. The researchers attempt to flee, but their hyperdrive had been destroyed. In their last acts, they transmit data about the attack back to Coruscant. Their vessel is destroyed moments later.

It turns out that the attacking ship belongs to another race that presides in the Unknown Regions. A race that has never before been encountered. Despite this, they had managed to attack and conquer many worlds throughout that area of space. And yet, they had managed to avoid coming in to contact with any of the other galactic powers, including the Chiss Ascendancy, who occupied much of the Unknown Regions, or the Yuuzhan Vong, who had since taken up residence on the living planet Zonoma Sekot.

The race is identified as the Kilrathi; bipedal felines standing slightly taller than the average Human. A violent species by nature, they had spent much of their history fighting and warring against each other. When they had gained their ability to travel throughout space, they simply brought their bloodlust to other worlds. To the Kilrathi, it was all about the hunt. And honour. To them, honour was gained in combat, and those who brought dishonour to their clan were usually expected to commit ritual suicide.

The Kilrathi had tested these aspects against each other, and then against other races throughout the Unknown Regions. Now, they had seen this coalition of races, this Galactic Alliance, which had managed to defeat a race just as vicious, if not more so, than the Kilrathi themselves were. To them, the Galactic Alliance was a foe too worthy for them to pass up.

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 **30-32 ABY** – Desperate to avoid another war at all costs, the leaders and diplomats of the Galactic Alliance do everything they can to soothe over relations with this new species, fearing that fighting another conflict so soon after defeating the Yuuzhan Vong would have devastating consequences. Various gestures of peace towards the Kilrathi are rebuffed, being seen by them as acts of cowardice and weakness.

Lack of action from the Galactic Alliance actually spurs the Kilrathi on, feeling that they could carry out their own campaign of conquest with little resistance. Mobilising their forces, they enter the southern regions of the 'known' galaxy, opposite from where the Yuuzhan Vong began their crusade. Moving through the Outer Rim, the Kilrathi attack, invade and conquer one world after another, and the body count rises gradually.

Angered by this sudden and blatant attack, citizens from across the galaxy call for vengeance against this new enemy. Despite not wanting to, the leaders of the Galactic Alliance know that they had little to no other choice. And so, they officially declare war on the Kilrathi Empire.

Once again, the galaxy would be embroiled in conflict.

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The following story takes place in an alternate timeline 33 years after the Battle of Yavin.

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 **Dramatis Personae**

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(* denotes original character created by the author)

(All Kilrathi, apart from OCs, are pre-existing characters in the _Wing Commander_ franchise.)

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Aidel Saxan; Corellian head of state (Human female)

Alema Rar; Jedi Knight (Twi'lek female)

Anja Gallandro; pilot (Human female)

Byrom Hyde; Royal Naboo captain (Human male) *

Cavil; Corellian separatist (Human male) *

Darjuuk nar Sikhag; warrior (Kilrathi male) *

Doral; scientist (Human male) *

Emperor of Kilrah; ruler of the Kilrathi Empire (Kilrathi male)

Em-Teedee; protocol droid (masculine programming)

Gilkarg nar Kiranka; Supreme Commander (Kilrathi male)

Han Solo; captain, _Millennium Falcon_ (Human male)

Jacen Solo; Jedi Knight (Human male)

Jaina Solo; Jedi Knight (Human female)

Kirha; retainer (Kilrathi male)

Lady Hassa; priestess (Kilrathi female)

Leia Organa Solo; Jedi Knight (Human female)

Lensi; pilot (Duro male)

Lowbacca; Jedi Knight (Wookiee male)

Luke Skywalker; Jedi Grand Master (Human male)

Lumpwaroo; co-pilot, _Millennium Falcon_ (Wookiee male)

Mara Jade Skywalker; Jedi Master (Human female)

Ralgha nar Hhallas; noble (Kilrathi male)

Raynar Thul; Jedi Knight (Human male)

Tahiri Veila; Jedi Knight (Human female)

Tenel Ka; Hapan Crown Princess (Human female)

Thracken Sal-Solo; Corellian separatist leader (Human male)

Thrakhath nar Kiranka; Prince of Kilrah (Kilrathi male)

Valin Horn; Jedi Knight (Human male)

Vua Rapuung; pilot (Yuuzhan Vong male)

Wedge Antilles; GA General (Human male)

Zekk; Jedi Knight (Human male)

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Sorry for the long description. I just wanted everything smoothed out now so there wouldn't be any confusion later on.

Enjoy the story!


	2. Eriadu I

**CHAPTER ONE**

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 **Space above Eriadu**

Many centuries of industrialisation had left Eriadu a heavily polluted world. The land was mostly green, but unlike vegetated areas on other planets, the green of Eriadu's foliage was dull and seemed to have little character about it. The seas were a banal grey in colour, and it was surprising that any form of marine life whatsoever managed to survive in those polluted waters. And yet despite all these environmental problems, the planet was still home to a staggering 22 billion Human inhabitants. Not only that, but one of those past inhabitants had been none other than the infamous Grand Moff Tarkin, the man who had coldly and ruthlessly ordered the first Imperial Death Star to wipe out the planet of Alderaan; a world which, in direct contrast to Eriadu, had been lush, verdant, and teeming with life.

Tarkin had possessed an attitude that had been echoed by many of his fellow Eriaduians. It was one that boasted utter devotion and loyalty to Emperor Palpatine and his Empire. Many of Eriadu's sons had gone off to become stormtroopers, TIE pilots, officers, and whatnot; loyal members of the Galactic Empire, completely devoted to the destruction of the Rebel Alliance and solidifying Imperial control over the galaxy. Even after Tarkin himself had perished when the Rebels had managed to destroy the first Death Star at the Battle of Yavin, many from his planet remained committed to Palpatine. And when the otherwise reviled Emperor had met his end on the _second_ Death Star at the Battle of Endor, Eriadu was one of the very few planets across the galaxy that did _not_ play host to gigantic celebrations.

It was for those reasons that Jacen Solo found it incredibly ironic that he now found himself in the middle of a deadly battle to _protect_ Eriadu against an enemy that had proven time and time again over the last year that they could be just as deadly as Palpatine's Empire had been, if not much more so.

An enemy called the Kilrathi.

" _Blue squadron, form up on me,"_ a voice came through Jacen's headset. He was currently in the cockpit of an X-wing fighter, flying alongside some of the best pilots the Galactic Alliance had produced, along with a few that were still a little wet behind the ears. The voice that Jacen just heard belonged to Lensi, a Duro who had risen to prominence in the recent war against the Yuuzhan Vong.

Admittedly, there had been times when Jacen found it both ironic and distressing that they had managed to survive and come out on top in a war against one mysterious and deadly enemy, only to find themselves in another war against yet another mysterious and deadly enemy only a few years later.

Pushing such thoughts out of his head, Jacen responded to Lensi's command with the other pilots, angling his fighter a moment later. Blue Squadron now flew in a standard V formation with Lensi, as Blue Leader, at the tip. Jacen was Blue Four, at the far left and rear of the formation. In front of him to his right was Blue Two, whom he knew to be a tough and burly white-furred Talz known to everybody as Dipper. Blue Three was a rotund moustached Human in his late thirties, whom everyone called Jolly. Jacen enjoyed trading jokes with the man, and at the moment, they were the only two Humans in the in the five-person squadron. Blue Five was a sarcastic Devaronian that went by the nickname Beano; nobody knew exactly how he got that title, though speculations were rampant.

With the dull sphere of Eriadu below them, Jacen gazed out at the unfolding battle. He witnessed a number of ships and vessels fighting for the Galactic Alliance, and they ranged in size and form from smaller ones like Corellian Corvettes to medium sized ones, such as Nebulon-B Frigates and Assault Frigates, all the way up to the larger vessels, which included a pair of Imperial-class Star Destroyers; the infamous wedge-shaped capital ships utilised by the Empire to inspire fear in enemies and subjects alike. Historians would tell that many of the other ship designs had actually been utilised for less violent ventures, such as trading or recreation. They were simply modified for military usage by the Rebellion out of necessity to do battle with Palpatine's forces.

By contrast, the Kilrathi ships were clearly designed for war. Their cruisers, corvettes and dreadnoughts, from the Kamekh-class corvette to the Ralatha-class destroyer, had all been designed with sharp edges and fierce protrusions, and even painted in shades of crimson, copper, and steel. All designed to invoke fear in their adversaries. And right now, those vessels were exchanging blasts of laser fire with the Alliance vessels.

Through it all, smaller starfighters flitted through the chaos, exchanging their own shots with each other, or landing some on an enemy capital ship. Alliance ships included X-wings and Y-wings, made famous by the Rebellion during the war against the Empire, whereas the Kilrathi employed craft like the Dralthi fighter, which was shaped almost like a dish with a cockpit cutting through the middle, and the Krant bomber, which was of a design similar to the Toscan fighter, being vaguely delta shaped, but with sharper edges and more protrusions.

And right now, up ahead, twelve Dralthi were flying escort for four Krants, and they seemed to be making a beeline towards an Alliance frigate.

" _Blue Leader, do you see what I see?"_ the voice of Jolly, Blue Three came over the speakers, still managing to sound somewhat jovial, even in the midst of a deadly battle.

" _I see them, all right,"_ Lensi responded. _"We need to take them out. Two and Three, you are on me; we'll engage the fighters. Four and Five, you take out the bombers. You copy?"_

"Roger that, Blue Leader," Jacen replied over his com channel.

" _Damn straight!"_ came the answer from Blue Five. Even over the channel, Jacen could still picture Beano's face; his sarcastic grin and wild eyes under the horns that grew out of his forehead.

Lensi chose to ignore his grating behaviour. _"All right then, squad. We break on my mark."_ Each pilot tensed himself, preparing for the moment. _"Break… now!"_ With that, Lensi, Dipper and Jolly each broke upwards to begin firing on the Dralthis, while Jacen immediately locked on to one of the Krant bombers and opened fire. Beano did the same.

Jacen had studied up on the kind of craft that the Kilrathi flew, and he knew that although the Krant were slower than the Dralthi, they still managed to put on a decent amount of speed, surpassing that of Y-wing bombers. Though that was not too difficult; his Uncle Luke had said several times that Y-wings moved like sleepy Hutts. Nonetheless, Jacen was determined not to let any of his targets escape, so he poured on the fire until the Krant blew apart in a ball of fire. A second later, another of the crafts exploded, and he could hear Beano crow in victory.

" _Cut the chatter, Blue Five,"_ Lensi snapped over the com channels.

" _Relax,"_ Beano replied flippantly. _"I'm just havin' some fun."_ He immediately began shooting at another of the Krants. If Lensi had not been so preoccupied with fighting the Dralthi fighters, he might have given Beano a reprimanding remark. As it was, he let the issue drop.

There were now only two Krant bombers left, and Beano was presently attacking one of them, so Jacen focused his attention on the last one. The pilot had naturally noticed the sudden change in the situation and, seeing how dire it had suddenly become, broke off. Jacen angled his X-wing after him. The Kilrathi pilot attempted to throw him off by twisting and turning, going up and down.

But this pilot had obviously never faced a Jedi before, and Jacen thought that to himself as well. He opened himself up to the Force, allowing it to slowly seep into his being, permeating his heart and mind, sharpening his reflexes…

Until his crosshairs locked on to the bomber, and Jacen squeezed the trigger. Through the Force, he briefly felt the Kilrathi pilot's surprise and anger, before his life simply winked out.

The bombers now taken care of, Jacen turned his X-wing around, and headed back to where the rest of the squadron was. He saw that three of them were still engaging the Dralthis, and that the number of enemy fighters had dropped from twelve to seven. Looking around, he noticed that Beano, for all his cockiness, was still trying to deal with the remaining Krant. Jacen considered helping the Devaronian, then decided that the fighters now presented a bigger threat.

In fact, two of them were now pursuing one of his squad members. The Dralthis were taking shots at the fleeing X-wing, which was ducking left and right in a defiant effort to dodge the deadly bolts. Closing in, Jacen locked on to one of the Dralthis, blasting it apart less than two seconds later, then doing the same to the other.

" _Thanks, Blue Four,"_ came the voice of the other pilot, whom Jacen recognised as Jolly.

"No problem," Jacen responded. "Figured you needed a bit of help."

" _Where's Beano?"_

"Still chasing after his bomber."

" _Right,"_ the tone of Jolly's response was dry and bereft of any real emotion, suggesting that he had expected more from Beano. _"Anyway, let's go get the rest of those Dralthis."_ He and Jacen turned their X-wings around and headed back into the fray.

Lensi and Dipper were still engaging the remaining Dralthis, which had now dropped down to four. With Jacen and Jolly joining back in, the numbers were equalised. Each pilot took one of the enemy and made short work of them.

" _Nice job, Blue Squadron,"_ Lensi congratulated. _"Uh, where's Blue Five?"_

Before any of the other three could give a response, the somewhat bedraggled voice of the pilot in question came over the speakers. _"I'm here, boss. That damn cat gave me a run for my money. Got him though."_

" _And you certainly took your time doing it,"_ Jolly ribbed.

" _Hey, shut up, fatso!"_ Beano replied indignantly. While Jolly was indeed a rather rotund individual, 'fat' seemed a little too much.

" _Knock it off, you two!"_ Lensi snapped. _"I just received orders from command. Apparently we've got a pair of Ralatha-class destroyers making a run on the_ Claw _. We need to go there and give them a hand. So, follow me."_

As Blue Squadron angled off in the direction of their flagship, Jacen swore under his breath. They had only been fighting the Kilrathi for over a year now, but in that time, their Ralatha-class destroyers had proven to be one of the more formidable challenges that their enemies had thrown at them. They looked like a long, thick tube with a bulbous end (which housed the bridge), and having three protrusions at the other end, each one possessing a powerful engine. Not only that, it possessed heavy guns, high speed, and thick shielding, which all contributed to its large survival rate. And its turrets made any kind of run at it by fighters an extremely risky operation. If anything, the Ralatha was the epitome of the age-old axiom 'the best defence is a good offence'.

Flying together in a tight-knit formation, the five pilots of Blue Squadron expertly guided their X-wings through the maze of ships exchanging fire with each other. Though the battle appeared to be winding down, it was still an extremely dangerous situation to be in the middle of. From what Jacen could ascertain, it seemed as though the Alliance had managed to come out on top in this particular engagement. The Kilrathi vessels were fewer in number, and most of those that remained appeared to be in the process of pulling out.

 _Guess these cats aren't as suicidal as we originally thought_ , Jacen mused. The Kilrathi, a race of tall, bipedal felines, were not one to surrender so easily. In many cases, they preferred to continue fighting until the very last one of them fell, the whole time attempting to take down as many of the enemy as they could. Still, it seemed as though they did place some value on their own lives, seeing as they were retreating this time, if not to live so they could fight, kill and die another day.

 _But if they take out the_ Claw _, it won't matter if they retreated or not_. The thought ran through the Jedi Knight's head. Just as he thought this, his squad managed to break through a line of Kilrathi vessels that had been reduced mostly to burning hulks by Alliance cannons. Up ahead, they saw their objective.

The _Dragon's Claw_ was a newly christened Imperial-class Star Destroyer that had been painted with the markings of the Galactic Alliance. It had been Jacen's own uncle, the Grand Master of the Jedi Order Luke Skywalker, who had came up with the name, after the Krayt Dragons that prowled the sandy desert plains of his home planet Tattooine. It had been released just before the current conflict with the Kilrathi began, and had served brilliantly ever since.

And right now, it was trading fire with two of the enemy's Ralatha-class destroyers. Positioned in front of the _Claw_ , the vessels were pouring the fire on the Star Destroyer.

" _That's our target right ahead,"_ Lensi's voice came over the channel. _"Command said that the_ Claw _is focusing its attention on one of the Ralathas, which means the other one is our job. Our main targets are their forward gun batteries, got it?"_

Jacen responded at the same time as Dipper and Jolly, with "Copy that", _"Yes, sir"_ , and _"Roger"_ respectively. Unfortunately, Beano was not so easily swayed.

" _Come on, Blue Leader! Why bother with their guns when we can take out their bridge?"_

" _We can't make a run on their bridge_ because _of their guns!"_ Lensi snapped. _"If we can neutralise their turrets, then maybe,_ maybe _we can have a go at their bridge. Until then, just do your job, okay, Blue Five?"_

All Lensi got in response from Beano was a grumbling sound which he nonetheless took as an acknowledgement, and Jacen could not help but admire the Duro pilot for his patience.

The Ralatha that the _Dragon's Claw_ was focusing on was positioned directly ahead of it, whereas the other one, which Blue Squadron were to take care of, was more off to the port side. It also looked to be in better shape than its counterpart, and its hull simply bristled with weapon emplacements. Right now, they were being used to strafe the port side of the GA Star Destroyer. For now, the larger vessels shields were holding, but that would not last forever.

" _Everyone lock on to a different turret and arm your torpedoes,"_ Lensi instructed. Quickly checking his onboard computer, Jacen took note that his R2 unit had marked the position of every turret and weapon on the Ralatha's hull. Jacen locked onto one of them.

" _Ready,"_ Lensi ordered, _"and… fire!"_ From each X-wing, a deadly blue orb launched out, streaming through the vacuum towards the enemy vessel. From his cockpit, Jacen watched as they closed the distance, hoping that the Kilrathi onboard would not notice the deadly barrage until it was too late.

As the torpedoes drew closer to the Ralatha's shields, the Kilrathi gunners seemed to finally realise of the danger that was bearing down upon them, and swing their turrets in the direction of the torpedoes. But their reaction times were far too slow, and the projectiles penetrated the shields, impacting strongly against five separate turrets and turning them all into five miniature fireballs.

Unfortunately, there were still several other turrets that were operational, and without any more torpedoes to shoot at, the only available targets were the five X-wings of Blue Squadron. Lances of bright light shot out, straight towards them.

" _Break now!"_ Lensi ordered, and four of the X-wings broke and peeled off in different directions. The exception to this, naturally, was Beano.

" _Blue Five, I ordered you to break!"_ Lensi practically shouted into his com.

" _You told us after we took out their guns, we could take out the bridge,"_ Beano replied matter-of-factly.

" _I said_ maybe _we could! And they still have plenty more of those guns! Their defences are still too strong!"_

Jacen attempted to feel for Beano through the Force. He could feel the Devaronian's cockiness, how sure he was of himself and his perceived invincibility, and how he felt like he was capable to taking down the enemy single-handedly. It reminded him of something his uncle Luke had told him. During the Battle of Hoth, Luke had been the pilot for a snowspeeder, and his rear gunner had been a cocky young man by the name of Dak Vesser. Just before lifting off, Dak had remarked that he had felt like taking on the whole Empire himself. Luke had said that he understood, but about an hours later, Dak was dead.

Jacen had no doubt that if Luke Skywalker was here at the moment, he would probably be feeling a sense of déjà vu, and flashing back to that particular memory.

" _Damn it, Beano, don't just throw your life away like this!"_ Jolly yelled through the channels. Unfortunately, the Devaronian pilot ignored the protests from his squadron members and continued his run on the Ralatha's bridge, ducking and dodging the deadly blasts from the turrets. For a brief moment, it actually seemed like he would make it, and the only thing he would have to worry about was a stern reprimand when he was back onboard the ship.

But Beano's luck had obviously run out, as one particularly talent Kilrathi gunner managed to lock on to him and let off a flurry of laser bolts that raked against his fuselage. Beano had only a moment to let out a startled yelp before his X-wing blossomed into a fireball.

" _Beano,"_ Dipper breathed, his comment a mix of anger, frustration, weariness, and several other emotions he could barely express at the moment.

" _There's nothing we can do about it now,"_ Lensi said, his own voice carrying hints of those emotions. _"We need to make a run on the destroyer's port side guns. Everyone, try and get past it and get under the Star Destroyer. We can use it for protection."_

Jacen angled back towards the skirmishing vessels. Pushing the throttle to maximum, he aimed straight for the grey hull of the _Dragon's Claw_. He knew that, in order to get there, he would have to get past the Ralatha; which was now managing to successfully split its attention between its targets. With his finely tuned Force senses, Jacen was easily able to anticipate where the feline gunners were going to aim, and he was able to compensate; easily dodging out of the way.

Through the Force, he could also sense their frustration, and he could not help but feel a certain pleasure about that.

Finally getting past the enemy ship, Jacen flew his X-wing beneath the impressive hulk of the Alliance flagship, looming over him like a protective steel sky. Banking to port, he turned back in the direction of the Ralatha. He was just about to make another run on its turrets when he noticed what appeared to be a small cloud of objects that seemed to exit from its hull. Only, the components of this cloud had very distinctive forms.

 _More Dralthis!_ Jacen thought, immediately switching back to his laser cannons. Squeezing the trigger, he let loose a hail of red-orange bolts against the sudden swarm of fighters. One of them flickered briefly as their shields failed, then blew apart in a fireball. Without slowing his pace, Jacen immediately targeted another Dralthi and blew it apart as well.

" _Blue Four, are you alright? Do you need assistance?"_ Jolly's voice came over the com, sounding decidedly worried. Jacen managed to spare a very quick glance at his radar screens, noting that the other three remaining members of his squadron were currently making their run on the Ralatha's port side. That left Jacen alone to deal with the fighters. Fortunately, he was more than capable of dealing with it.

"I'm fine," Jacen responded. "Don't worry about me, just focus on taking out those turrets!" Dodging the fire from the Dralthi fighters, he managed to take out another one of them before being forced to turn.

There had been five Dralthis in the squadron, and now only two were left. If they had been sensible, they might have realised that since this adversary they were facing had taken out most of their squad single-handedly, continuing to face off against them would be somewhat suicidal. However, it seemed that sensibility was not a trait that was prevalent among the Kilrathi.

Pulling back from a series of spins and twists that were designed to throw off an attacker, Jacen locked on to another Dralthi and turned it into a ball of flaming wreckage. _Just one more_ , he thought, scanning for his target. It did not take long. Apparently, this single Kilrathi pilot had come to the conclusion that it would not come out on top in a fight with Jacen, and had instead decided to head back towards the Ralatha from which it had launched. Either it was planning to return to its ship, in the hopes of saving their own furry hide, or they decided to try their chances at taking out one of the other members of Blue Squadron.

Jacen was not about to let that happen. He gunned the throttle, and streaked after his prey. He rapidly closed the distance, and as the Kilrathi pilot opened fire on the other X-wings, Jacen let loose a stream of laser bolts which strafed the Dralthi's hull, setting it on fire and severely damaging its systems. Quickly reaching out with the Force, the Jedi pilot could feel the Kilrathi's life energy rapidly fading.

And then he saw a unique opportunity. Now without a pilot but still travelling at its highest speed, the Dralthi was heading at high speed towards the hull of the Ralatha, which by now had been depleted of shields. At this rate, it would crash into the hull right next to the opening of the hanger. Giving a strong but subtle push with the Force, Jacen managed to manipulate the pilot's flight stick in the cockpit, giving it a little nudge and adjusting the craft's trajectory.

 _Return to sender._

In the Force, the sudden alarm of the Ralatha's hanger crew could be heard as they noticed the Dralthi suddenly bearing down on them, aiming right for the yawning mouth of the hanger. The fighter entered and crashed into a row of parked fighters and vehicles. Something flammable or explosive must have been stored there, because a sudden fireball erupted, spewing out of the hanger, and sending tremors throughout the entire destroyer.

" _Whoa, what was that?"_ Jolly cried out.

"Just doing my job," Jacen replied casually. His grin could not be seen by anybody else, but those hearing his voice on the com channel would have been able to tell from his voice.

" _Nice work, Blue Four,"_ Dipper warbled.

" _I agree,"_ said Lensi. _"Command says that the remaining Kilrathi are pulling out. They're retreating."_ Sure enough, the two Ralatha destroyers were starting to turn around and make good their escape. Both crippled beyond any ability to fight effectively, they were preserving themselves to fight for another day.

" _Do we pursue?"_ Jolly asked.

" _Negative,"_ Lensi replied. _"Command says that we are to dock back on the_ Dragon's Claw _. The enemy fleet is bugging out, and our troops on the ground are mopping up the rest of their soldiers. This battle is ours, Eriadu has been saved."_

Despite himself, Jacen allowed a sigh of relief to escape from his lungs, and he leaned back slightly in his chair. He had managed to get through yet another battle alive and unscathed. He recalled that many pilots had a mantra that stated _'any battle that you can walk away from is a victory for you, regardless of the outcome'_.

Dimly, Jacen felt that Beano would have seriously taken issue with that.

Putting such thoughts out of his mind, Jacen began the process of landing his X-wing back on the _Dragon's Claw_. Right now, all that mattered to him was having a hot shower, maybe followed by a stiff drink.

* * *

 **OK, that's the start. Like the _Wing Commander_ franchise itself, this story focuses mostly on space combat, so that might make it like the old _X-wing_ games.**

 **Seriously, they need to make some more of those kinds of games. The last one was _X-wing Alliance_ , and that came out two decades ago! I know the _Battlefront_ series comes close, but it just doesn't have the same feel to it.**


	3. Bespin I

**Ok, my story has been up for a little over two weeks now, and I've gotten no reviews. That's disappointing but actually understandable; _Star Wars_ sees so much activity on this site that a work like mine can fly under the radar. I'm hoping that, with more chapters put up, I'll get some reviews under my belt.**

 **Anyway, here is the next chapter.**

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 **CHAPTER TWO**

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 **Atmosphere of Bespin**

 **3,000 kms south of Cloud City**

At most times, the peach-coloured atmosphere of Bespin might have seemed calming. But understandably, that was the farthest thing from the mind of Jaina Solo at the moment. Taking a breath, she left the Force flow through her, permeating her being and calming her senses.

It was only a couple of days ago that Lando Calrissian, an old friend of her family, had sent a message to the powers that be that were currently running this war against the Kilrathi. An extremely savvy businessman, Lando was a man known for having his hands in many different pockets, but the venture that was closest to his heart would have to be Cloud City, the enormous city that floated in the atmosphere of the gas giant Bespin, and hosted many profitable establishments; the most popular of which had to be the many casinos.

Despite being loyal to the Galactic Alliance and his friends, Lando had opted to stay out of this current conflict, at least for as long as he could manage. It was nothing personal, of course, he just simply wished to spend more time focusing on his business instead of fighting a war. Unfortunately, it seemed that the Kilrathi did not get that particular memo. They had not launched a massive attack or invasion of Cloud City; whether it was because they were unaware of its existence, or they did but saw little point in attacking it, Lando did not know nor did he particularly want to know. But that did not stop the enemy from setting up shop elsewhere. Despite his reluctance, Lando risked sending out a scout to examine it, and they had managed to come back undetected by the Kilrathi.

Examination of the images that were taken revealed that the object in question was actually a Tibanna gas mining facility. A design never before seen; one that showed the sharp edges, exposed wiring and pure asymmetrical functionality of the Kilrathi, but its design as a gas harvesting facility could not be disputed. Lando Calrissian was an individual who might have simply shrugged and let the Kilrathi continue with their little venture, as long as they did not bother him. Unfortunately, the Galactic Alliance was currently not in a position to do that themselves.

So, Lando simply sighed and told them to do whatever they needed to. Which was why Jaina Solo was here in this position right now. She was in charge of a squad of twelve X-wings whose mission was quite simple: find the enemy facility and blow it out of the sky.

"This is Green Leader, all squadron members report in," Jaina ordered over the com channels.

"Green Two, standing by," reported Jaina's wingman, her best friend and fellow Jedi, Zekk.

"(Green Three, standing by.)" Although this actually came out as a growl, Jaina had no trouble understanding it. Neither did any of the other squad members, as they were either well versed in the Wookiee language, or had their headsets outfitted with special devices that translated for them. The growls belonged to another of Jaina's friends and fellow Jedi, the Wookiee known as Lowbacca, or Lowie to his friends.

"Green Four, standing by," came the fierce and determined female voice belonging to Anja Gallandro. Though not a Jedi, she was a capable combatant, and thanks to her Jedi friends, she had managed to overcome both her father's murder and a terrible spice addiction. The former, she had originally blamed on Jaina's father, and the latter had simply been a way for her to deal with it.

"Green Five, standing by," reported another Jedi, Raynar Thul.

"Green Six, standing by," said Chuckles, a Human whose olive skin and almond shaped eyes denoted him as a member of the Epicanthix persuasion. He had gotten his name for his habit of telling jokes and laughing incessantly. He reminded Jaina of her twin brother Jacen, only less amusing, which actually surprised her a bit, since she did not believe such a thing were possible.

"Green Seven, standing by," chimed in Rigel, a Human male from Coruscant whose frame was tall and lanky, and skin so pale it was all but obvious he spent next to no time in sunlight.

"Green Eight, standing by," came the sultry voice of Alema Rar. Another Jedi, and a blue-skinned female of the Twi'lek species, she was known as being something of a tease towards males of every species.

"Green Nine, standing by," reported in a young Togruta female nicknamed Stepchild, for some reason which had never been established.

"Green Ten, standing by." This voice belonged to Flat-top. A native of Corellia, he possessed a cocky attitude that seemed excessive even by his home planet's standards, and wore his hair in a boxy shape with a flat top, hence his nickname.

"Green Eleven, standing by," came the rather deadpan tone of Danath, a Chiss male.

"Green Twelve, standing by," stated the equally deadpan voice of Sesha, a female of the same species. Apparently, the two Chiss were actually in some kind of a relationship, but like virtually every other member of their species, they kept it out of sight and maintained a stiff and formal attitude when in public.

None of that was important. Only one thing was at that moment: destroying the enemy facility.

"All right, Green Squadron," Jaina directed over the com. "Sensors indicate that the Tibanna mining facility is just a few thousand clicks directly ahead of us. Set your throttles to maximum and follow me." With that, the young Jedi woman pushed her X-wing to top speed, her quad engines practically burning streaks in the Bespin atmosphere. The other eleven pilots did the same.

Within moments, a tiny black speck appeared out of the clouds. "Visual on the target," Zekk, as Green Two, reported. Jaina did not respond over the com, but she sent a little acknowledgement through the Force. Zekk responded in kind, and she sensed the little grin that he put with it.

As the speck grew in size, it started to take a more distinctive, if irregular, shape. Though vaguely round in size, it still had a few odd angles and edges in certain places; further testaments that the Kilrathi cared very little for symmetry. The most menacing parts, however, were the bristling turrets and gun emplacements positioned at various places on the exterior.

"These guys have got _lots_ of guns," Anja commented dryly, though it did not take a Force-sensitive to know that she was far from amused.

"Tell me about it," Raynar growled.

"That's going to cause a problem for us," said Jaina. "All fighters, prepare to set deflector shields to double front." Doing such a thing would increase the deflector shields at the front of the craft, making them doubly strong. The massive drawback, of course, meant that doing that would take shields away from the rear, leaving that part vulnerable.

"You might want to hold off on that, Green Leader." Zekk's voice carried a sudden sense of urgency, as did his aura in the Force. "My scanners show that they have a complement of fighters on board the facility, and we'll need those shields if we're going to take them out."

Jaina permitted herself an annoyed growl. "I should have known they would not have just left a facility like this unprotected in the middle of nowhere."

"Fighters are launching," came the somewhat panicked voice of Chuckles, Green Six. His usually comical demeanour was nowhere to be found.

"Lower your speed," Jaina instructed. "That facility's got guns protecting it, so let's stay out of their range for now. We take out the fighters first, and then we go in." She received several responses of "Roger" from her squadron.

Coming in to view, Jaina could make out the vaguely disc-shaped profile of the Dralthi fighters that were used by the Kilrathi. Right now, sixteen of them were making their way towards her squadron, and she could almost feel the rage, fury and bloodlust that seethed through the pilots.

"Don't bunch up," Jaina ordered. "Everybody break on my mark. Three, two, one, break!" The X-wings of Green Squadron split up and peeled away in various directions. The gambit seemed to work, as the flight of Dralthis broke apart, each one following a different target.

Coming about almost instantly, Jaina immediately lined up a shot on an enemy fighter and squeezed the trigger. Bolts of red fire lanced out of her X-wing's four cannons, striking the Kilrathi vessel, and blowing it apart. Through the Force, she could feel Zekk and Lowbacca also scoring themselves one kill each, and she permitted herself a brief smile. _Nice going, boys_ , she thought privately to herself. No sense in distracting them at the moment, right?

Ahead of her, Jaina saw another pair of Dralthis chasing an X-wing. A brief glance at the screen informed her that the beleaguered pilot was Green Ten; the cocky Corellian known as Flat-top. Jaina did not need the Force to know that he was not feeling particularly cocky right now. She sped up, matching her speed to that of the pursing Dralthis.

Taking careful aim yet again, Jaina locked on to the nearer of the fighters, and opened fire, turning it into another fireball spewing debris that would plummet down into the atmosphere of the gas giant. But before she could lock on to the other Dralthi, Flat-top suddenly swerved down and to the right, causing his pursuer to do the same. Despite being slightly annoyed, Jaina followed them. As she came about, she was about to lock on to the Dralthi when it unexpectedly blew up just like its wingman did. At first, Jaina was confused. Had it suffered some kind of malfunction or something? Her thoughts were answered when she noticed another X-wing flying triumphantly through the flaming wreckage.

"Couldn't let you Jedi have all the fun now, could I?" the pilots voice came over the com, sounding rather pleased with herself.

Jaina rolled her eyes. "No Anja, I suppose we couldn't." Though the other woman did not reply, it was obvious that she was grinning widely. "How are you faring, Green Ten?"

"Good enough, I suppose," Flat-top reported. "Took a few hits, but I seem to be doing just fine." Jaina could almost picture the cocky grin that seemed to be permanently attached to the young Corellian's face.

A quick check at both the readouts and through the Force kept her appraised of the situation. All twelve of her pilots, including herself, seemed to be doing fine, whereas the Kilrathi had their numbers reduced from sixteen down to nine. It seemed as though this mission would be over quicker than she thought it would be. _Too easy_ , she thought.

With a start, Jaina caught her thoughts. If life and her various aspects of training, from Jedi to pilot and so on, had taught her one thing repeatedly, it was that she should never, ever think that things were too easy. Ever. It had been drilled in to her that one must never underestimate their opponents in any circumstances whatsoever, for they could very well have a very unpleasant surprise awaiting them, and soldiers and pilots who got cocky simply increased their chances of getting killed.

As if to punctuate Jaina's musings, another swarm of Dralthi fighters launched from the facility. She could not help but roll her eyes and sigh in annoyance as she heard Raynar's voice come in over the com channel. "We've got another flight of Dralthis heading our way!"

With the addition of the extra sixteen fighters, the number of enemy combatants had just jumped from nine to twenty-five, more than twice the number of X-wings. The odds had just gotten much worse. But Jaina was from a family who had a long history of beating the odds.

"Let's take the fight to them first," she announced. "All Jedi pilots on my six, everyone else take care of the first group." At Jaina's order, she was joined by Zekk, Lowbacca, Raynar and Alema, and they positioned themselves in a V formation. As the remaining members of Green Squadron continued their skirmish with the first group of Dralthi fighters, the Jedi angled away and headed straight for the second.

Jaina knew that this was a very desperate gamble, and she certainly had her doubts about the whole thing, but the more important aspect of it was that the Kilrathi themselves would not have seen such a move coming. They had always been so used to dominating other species that any show of defiance, or even what appeared to be an outright abandonment of common sense, came as a surprise to them. And sure enough, all five of the Jedi could feel through the Force that the Kilrathi pilots were surprised by this sudden and brazen manoeuvre. Fortunately, it was one that they had actually practised and pulled off several times by now.

Of course, it was not without its inherent dangers.

"Get ready to break," Jaina instructed her squad, and though they did not respond over the com, she felt a subtle mental response from all of them. Each one was on the edge of their nerves, focusing entirely on the movements of their adversaries, just waiting for them to unleash a barrage of laser fire.

It did not take long. With the distance between the X-wings and the much larger group of Dralthis closing very rapidly, the leaders of the latter group squeezed off large amounts of laser fire.

"Now!" Jaina practically yelled, and all five of the Jedi pilots threw their flight sticks either forward or back, sending their vessels either ducking down to fly underneath the flight of Kilrathi fighters, or arching up to soar over them. They all felt the sudden surprise of the feline pilots, many of which attempted to turn around and get a bead on their wily adversaries.

Most of them never got a chance, as the Jedi pilots had already completed their loop and were now at the back of the Dralthi group and were hard on their tails in what turned out to be a sudden reversal. Those Kilrathi who attempted to pursue the Jedi suddenly found their X-wings filling their screen, raking them with laser fire, until their Dralthi exploded.

It was a technique that had just been developed in this current war. One which required expert piloting and perfect timing. It had only been performed a few successful times, and all of them with Jedi pilots. Nonetheless, the second group of Kilrathi fighters found themselves beginning to be decimated, going down one by one.

As the last of the Dralthis fell, Lowbacca let out a brief growl of victory. "You said it, pal!" Raynar crowed in agreement.

Even Jaina had to admit that she felt proud at the moment, not just of herself, but of her fellow Jedi and pilots as well. "Nice work, team," she said. "Now let's go see how the others fared."

The five X-wings with Jedi pilots swung around to join back up with other seven in the squadron. Jaina was pleased to see that there were no Dralthis left; obviously her squad did a good job.

But apparently not good enough. A quick count revealed that there were now only a total of eleven X-wings remaining. Noticing that the fighter designated Green 4 was cruising alongside her, Jaina opened up a channel.

"Anja, did we lose someone?"

The other woman's voice was tired and sorrowful as she responded. "Yeah. Flat-top. Crazy cat made a suicide run on him, took both of them out."

"Damn," Jaina sighed. After a moment, she managed to compose herself. "All right, we still have a job to do." Broadcasting to the rest of the squad, she began issuing orders once again. "Green Squadron, that's good work with the fighters, but unfortunately, we still need to take out the facility. Let's form up and prepare to make our attack run, but don't bunch up! That place has turrets all over it, so let's not give them any easy shots, all right?" The others clicked their response, and began getting into position.

Now that the sky had been cleared of enemy fighters, the run on the gas mining facility was somewhat easier, and Green Squadron once again soared towards their target.

As they began their next run, Jaina suddenly felt the weight of immense responsibility upon her shoulders. When embarking on this mission, she knew, hell they all knew, that they would not be receiving any orders or support from any capital ships flying with them, or superior officers reporting from inside the confines of a base. No, this whole mission depended entirely on the squadron commander. And that commander was Jaina Solo. It was her that made the decisions that would affect the outcome of this battle, and with it, the fates of all the members of her squadron. She had gained plenty of experience in this particular area during the Yuuzhan Vong War, and that tended to make her a natural choice for being a leader. But it never really made the job easier. There would always be casualties on their side, and it was things like that which tainted whatever glory might have come with it.

As Green Squadron closed the distance between themselves and their target, the many turrets on the facility suddenly came to life. "Okay, _now_ we put shields to double front," Jaina ordered. As the members of her squad did so, she also issued instructions to her onboard R2 unit. "Sneaky, try and locate any centralised power source; odds are that's where we need to aim for." A series of beeps and whistles indicated that the astromech droid was carrying out its assigned task.

"Damn, this barrage is difficult," the strained voice of Green 6, Chuckles, grunted over the com.

"Just hang in there, Green 6," Anja attempted to calm him, though all the Jedi could tell that she herself was under great pressure.

It seemed as though Anja's advice was irrelevant, as just moments later, a bolt from the Kilrathi defences managed to get past the shields of Chuckle's X-wing and shatter the transparisteel canopy. Over the com channels, the other members of Green Squadron could hear him gasp in shock, and Jaina could imagine that he was looking down at the mortal wound in his chest, before he succumbed to unconsciousness. His X-wing began its plummet into the gaseous depths of Bespin, never to return. Eventually, the vessel and its pilot would plunge into the core and be destroyed.

A moment later, the panicked voice of Green 9, the Togruta female called Stepchild, cried over the channel. "Chuckles bought it. He's going down!" Ironically, an instant later, Stepchild herself fell victim to the same fate, as turrets from the Kilrathi facility scored hits against her hull and blew her ship apart.

"We're losing too many pilots!" Raynar practically yelled.

"Everyone break again!" Jaina shouted, frustration filling her being. However, as her squad broke ranks, her R2 unit had come back with an answer to her previous question. Sparing an extremely brief moment from her desperate dodging of the enemy bolts, she looked at the screen and noted that a diagram of the gas mining facility was now displayed, and currently highlighted was a spot near the bottom: the power generator, and the weak spot she was looking for.

"I have a plan," Jaina announced, her determination back in full force. "Anja, I need you to lead the rest of the squadron in distracting the turrets for me. Zekk and Lowie, you guys are on my six."

"What's the plan?" asked Zekk.

"Simple, we're going to finish our jobs."

"(I hope you know what you are doing,)" Lowbacca growled in his native tongue.

"Same here," Jaina muttered.

With that, Anja began rallying the rest of Green Squadron. They pulled back to a certain distance from the facility, and switched their shields to encompass their whole craft, both front and back. After Anja quickly relayed their plans, they reluctantly complied, and began a process of distracting the Kilrathi gunners. The whole time they ducked, dodged, weaved and twisted any which way they could; all to ensure that they themselves would not be destroyed.

"Come on, Jaina," Anja muttered, "hurry up and do your job."

The gambit seemed to be working, for while the Kilrathi were being distracted by the aerobatics of the other members of Green Squadron, none of them seemed to notice that three X-wings had actually broken off from the main group, and were now diving down beneath the gas mining facility, before angling back up and aiming straight for the weak spot at its belly.

Jaina, Zekk and Lowbacca all gazed through the Heads Up Display in their cockpits, the crosshairs turning red as they locked on to the main power generator.

"They've got no shields, nothing stopping us," Zekk reported. A definite droning noise emanated throughout his cockpit. "I've got tone and lock!" A growl through the headset indicated that their Wookiee companion had a similar reading.

"That makes three of us," Jaina said with a grin on her face that was evident even in the way she spoke. "Okay boys, let 'em rip!" With that, she depressed the button on her flight stick, and felt a brief shuddering sensation through her X-wing as a proton torpedo left its launch bay, streaking towards its target. Less than a second later, the same thing was launched out of the other two X-wings.

Maintaining a steady course, the three Jedi watched as the deadly projectiles streaked through the atmosphere towards their target. Jaina found herself holding her breath, which she only let out when she saw the three torpedoes impact against the power generator, detonating in a fiery explosion that sent shock waves rippling throughout the facility. All at once, it seemed as though the whole place had its power switched off; the lights positioned at various places around the deck went dark, the turrets ceased firing, and the pilots could swear that they witnessed the facility start to lose altitude.

"Looks like our job here is done, guys," Jaina announced triumphantly. "Now let's get the hell out of here." With that, the three of them met back up with the remainder of Green Squadron and headed back in the direction of Cloud City.

As the squad watched on their monitors the view from the rear-mounted camera; that of the Tibanna mining facility sinking into the Bespin atmosphere, occasionally spewing bursts of flame, Anja spoke up. "Looks like we can chalk this one up as a victory. Those cats aren't going to be harvesting any more gas from here for a while."

"Yeah," Raynar agreed somewhat solemnly. "But we still lost a quarter of our squadron. I don't think that Flat-top, Chuckles or Stepchild are going to agree with you so readily."

"Maybe not," Alema Rar put in, "but I for one am in the mood for a little celebration. I say we head to Cloud City and blow off some steam." This was met with a few murmurs of agreement from other pilots.

"What do you say, Green Leader?" Zekk asked.

Jaina looked inside herself and found only weariness. If she had to be brutally honest about everything, she would have to admit that she was quite tired of it all. Tired of war, tired of killing, tired of seeing her friends and comrades die one after another. Even though most of the people whom she had fought alongside with had not been a particularly close friend or family member, she still felt regret over their passing, as if she herself had been responsible for them. Even the three pilots that she lost today fell into that category.

"Jaina," Zekk asked again, his voice softer this time.

Taking a breath, the young Jedi woman finally gave her answer; the one that she felt was the best one to give. "You know what? I think that Flat-top, Chuckles and Stepchild would appreciate us letting our hair down for a while. Let's raise a drink to them." This was met with raucous cheers from the other pilots.

Green Squadron zoomed through the atmosphere, making a beeline for Cloud City, while behind them, the flaming hulk of the Kilrathi Tibanna gas mining facility continued its descent into Bespin's core, where it would eventually be consumed.

* * *

The nine remaining pilots of Green Squadron landed their craft at a couple of docking areas at Cloud City, then headed straight for one of the cantinas. Lando Calrissian, grateful that a potential threat had been removed before it had the chance to become a serious one, was more than willing to shout the pilots as much alcohol as they felt like it. And for the most part, they were grateful to accept it.

By the end of their celebrations, Alema Rar was flirting with virtually male in the place, regardless of species, and was on the verge of getting up on the bar to do a striptease until Jaina ordered Lowbacca to take the intoxicated Twi'lek out of the place, which he did by carrying her over his shoulder. The male patrons had been naturally disappointed, but they were not about to argue their point with a giant Wookiee.

To make matters worse, Rigel had gotten so drunk that Zekk and Raynar had to carry him out of the place, and Anja had nearly started a fight at the sabacc table. Fortunately, the two Chiss, Danath and Sesha, had the common decency to maintain a sense of decorum, for which Jaina was intensely grateful.

At times like this, going up against the Kilrathi seemed almost preferable.

* * *

 **This is actually one of my more favourite chapters. One of my friends read it shortly after I wrote it and he loved it too. Said he could see the facility falling through the clouds spewing fire as it was in its death throes!**

 **By the way, this story _does_ draw inspiration from the reimagined _Battlestar Galactica_ series, and I will admit that the names and/or call signs of some of the original characters were taken from the show, including the three pilots who got killed this chapter.**


	4. Kilrah I

**Thanks to Colo Kid for leaving the first review. I'm guessing you watched _Battlestar_ if you were able to make a the connection with the names.**

 **Anyway, this chapter will focus on the Kilrathi. Information on them was gleaned by reading _Wing Commander_ tie-in novels and researching them. This will include some of their language, and I have included a glossary of it down the bottom.**

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 **CHAPTER THREE**

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 **Deep in the Unknown Regions**

The area of the galaxy known as the Unknown Regions had hidden much from the eyes of the greater galactic community. Be it in the time of the old Republic, the Galactic Empire, the Rebel Alliance, the New Republic, or the current Galactic Alliance, the Unknown Regions had remained mostly the same. An area of the galaxy where the worlds and systems within remained hidden; a mystery to all except those who dwelled within its borders.

And yet, many races and civilisations called this area of space home. The Chiss Ascendancy, the Killiks, Vagaari, the Yuuzhan Vong refugees now residing on Zonoma Sekot, and so many others. Thousands of years earlier, a Sith empire had lain hidden here, preparing to make an assault against an unsuspecting Republic. It was rumoured that this very empire was what had prompted two legendary Jedi Knights named Revan and Malak to return to the Republic and wage war against it, in order to prepare the galaxy for the arrival of this great enemy.

And the Unknown Regions was home to another race. One that even now was waging a war, a campaign of blood and destruction against the Galactic Alliance.

The Unknown Regions was home to the Kilrathi Empire.

The Kilrathi were a relatively new race to the galactic scene, having only gained space flight capabilities in the last few centuries. However, they did not invent such technology themselves. Rather, it had been brought to them by another species. A benevolent and philanthropic race called the Utara. Seeing the Kilrathi fight each other, the Utara sought to educate them. They attempted to teach them art, culture, politics, the more benevolent and civilised of practises. They even decided to give them the ability to travel through space, to break the surly bonds of their home planet, and reach out to the stars.

Needless to say, that was what inevitably led to the end of the Utara. The baser instincts of the Kilrathi race, the bloodlust and desire for battle, could never be tamed. And after countless millennia of fighting each other in a seemingly never-ending slew of bloody civil wars, they finally had an adversary from the outside against which to test their mettle. The resulting conflict was brief, but in the end, the Utara were no more.

In the ensuing centuries, the Kilrathi continued to expand throughout their own corner of the Unknown Regions, adding one world after another to their gradually expanding Empire. The Utara were their first victims, but were by far not the last. Several other sentient species that the Kilrathi came across were subsequently conquered and wiped out, all the more to satisfy their intense bloodlust.

This was the way that it had been, ever since the feline warriors had made it to the stars. And now, they had almost a hundred worlds. B'osc'Au, H'hri Som, K'cha Tsek, N'Der Pak, N'd'lon, Sum'n Shriss, Trk'Pahn, Vukar Tag… these were but a handful of the worlds that belonged to the great Empire of the Kilrathi.

But to the warriors themselves, there was one planet that stood above all others. One world that no others could compare with. A world which they would willingly give their lives over, even if they had never set foot upon its surface.

Kilrah.

The very birthplace of their species, the crowning jewel of their Empire. The home of the Eight Noble Clans, the seat of the Imperial Throne. The world to which all Kilrathi of every _hrai_ would pledge their allegiance, no matter which planet they had actually been born on. For it had been here that the Kilrathi had risen into sentience, had hunted along its dry arid plains, taken shelter as the ground shook from one of the many quakes it had endured. It was a world of tectonic instability, a harsh and unforgiving landscape. It was their home.

And it was from here that the Kilrathi reached out with their four-fingered clawed hands towards the stars.

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Amidst the dry and arid plains of Kilrah, the dark and oppressing sky, and the trembling tectonic activity that constantly wracked its surface, lay the very seat of the Empire's power. The palace of the Emperor.

The Kilrathi were not a race renowned for any form of artistic temperament. Nor architecture, for that matter. The structures they produced on their worlds were modelled on the basis of sheer basic functionality. In many Kilrathi homes, it was more often than not that machinery, cables and ductwork were left exposed, and pillars and protrusions were found rising from places they were not usually found. Most of their homes did not even possess a fully enclosed ceiling.

The Palace on Kilrah was an exception to this, but not by a great deal. It seemed little more than a collection of rust-coloured jagged spires rising up from the ground, piercing the dark skies above. Occasionally a window of red panes could be seen, including the giant circular one located near the top of the largest spire, gazing out over the landscape like a bloody red eye.

Symmetry was a concept lost on the Kilrathi. Despite this, to the practised eye, they still seemed capable of producing master works of art.

Thoughts such as these, however, were far from the mind of the individual who sat upon the throne in the Palace's main hall. The throne itself was tall and made of some kind of white stone. Various symbols were etched into the sides in a bright red colour. The person sitting upon this chair held himself with an air that was both regal, and yet imposing and intended to induce fear. His features included a leonine face, fur and a long beard of a light yellow colour, long pointed ears, and long sharp teeth designed to tear meat from bone. His right eye was a bright green, but his left eye glowed a furious red out of its pupil; a mechanical replacement for the real one that he had lost in a conflict long ago.

Most Kilrathi preferred to wear clothing comprised of red, black, brown and sometimes gold colours; colours that quite often signified war and bloodshed. This particular individual, however, also wore a flowing cape of a deep royal blue; a colour that tended to be worn only by members of the Imperial Royal Family.

The true name of this Kilrathi was a mystery to all save for those who were the closest to him. To everyone else, he was simply the Emperor of Kilrah. The one to whom they swore fealty and loyalty until death took them.

Very few were more loyal, however, than the individuals who stood before the Emperor, clad in a dark and imposing armour of black and crimson, and armed with deadly assault rifles that looked too big for members of most other species to handle. These were the Imperial Royal Guards, who had sworn to give their very lives in order to defend the Emperor against any and all threats.

And yet the Royal Guards easily moved out of the way to let through the single figure that approached the throne. This single Kilrathi himself wore a military uniform adorned with chains and seals, and he also had robes similar to that of the Emperor, but were the typical blood red seen amongst his race. He wore no royal colours. At least, not yet. Nonetheless, he carried himself in a way that seemed to exude an air of royalty.

This was none other than the Emperor's own grandson, Thrakath nar Kiranka. The Emperor looked on in appreciation as his grandson stepped up on the raised dais, stopping a few metres from the throne, and bent down onto one knee, his head respectfully bowed in supplication. But the Emperor was no fool. He knew exactly what kind of individual his grandson was. The Kilrathi were a belligerent and war-hungry species, but Thrakhath was as bloodthirsty as they came. He had already amassed an impressive service record against this 'Galactic Alliance', and he was very eager to partake in more of the fighting.

The Emperor actually found a sense of pride warming his core. Thrakhath would make a fine Emperor one day. If he survived.

Pushing all irrelevant thoughts from his mind, the Emperor leaned forward and indicated with a simple gesture from his claw that his grandson should rise, which he did so wordlessly. The Emperor then spoke in his native tongue, his deep baritone reverberating throughout the chamber. _"Krajksh nai varkish h'hassrai?"_

Thrakhath fixed his grandfather with a look that told of displeasure and unfortunate news. "My lord," he began in their native language, "I regret to inform you that we have suffered a few setbacks and disappointments of late. Our Tibanna mining facility on the gas giant Bespin has been destroyed by Alliance fighters."

The Emperor's one good eye narrowed. "Most disappointing, indeed," he murmured. "Are there any other disappointments that have we endured?"

Thrakhath continued his report. "Another is regarding the fleet stationed above the planet known as Eriadu. The Alliance launched a devastating counterattack, in which many of our ships were destroyed. The fleet was thrown into disarray, and those that survived were forced to flee. Our communications with our forces on the planet's surface ceased shortly after." He paused, and a dark look came over his features. An angry growl escaped his throat. "Those cowards! They should have stayed to fight! Better to commit _tagugar_ than to become _sa'guk_."

The Emperor held out one of his clawed hands. "Calm yourself, my grandson." He knew all too well that Thrakhath wanted nothing more than to go out and fight, immerse himself in the conflict. Truth be told, he could not blame him. If he had not been saddled with the responsibility of directing the Empire, he himself would be out there, fighting the enemy. He gave his grandson a smile; one that displayed most of his pointed teeth. Such a look would have seemed sinister to those from other species. "If I didn't know any better, I'd swear that you were a little too eager to get into the war yourself."

Having managed to calm himself down, Thrakhath spoke in a low voice. "I… will admit, my Lord, that I am eager to… partake in the shedding of the enemy's blood. After all, _va ka garga ka naru ha garga_."

The Emperor nodded sagely. "Indeed." He stood up from his throne. "Thrakhath, I think I may have the perfect assignment for you." He began walking over to the side of the hall, his grandson following him step-for-step. "I am sure that you are aware of an important ceremony that is to be occurring soon."

"You speak of the Sivar-Eshrad?" Like all others of his race, Thrakhath knew how important this ceremony was to the Kilrathi. Held on a recently conquered world, the Sivar-Eshrad was an event which as many Kilrathi as possible attended. The planet's entire population would be summarily wiped out, with each death being sent up as a tribute to the war god Sivar. Most saw the occasion as a form of religious worship; one that was particularly suited to the bloodthirsty nature of the Kilrathi. However, there were those who perceived it as something of a civilising tool. It was a way of ensuring that their species' natural belligerence and aggression was directed outward at their enemies, rather than inward, where it had the potential to spark a civil war.

It was not surprising that many of those who viewed it in the latter category were of the Ki'ra clan. They tended to be intellectually inclined. The Ki'ra were long-time adversaries of Thrakath's _hrai_ , the Kiranka; understandable, since they had been the rulers of Kilrah before being ousted by Thrakhath's ancestors. Naturally, he felt contempt towards them, but he nonetheless understood their reasoning behind their theories of the Sivar-Eshrad. After all, better an external adversary than members of their own species.

The Emperor nodded in response to his grandson's question. "Indeed, I do. I want you to oversee it for me. In fact, I think I may have found an ideal world for you to perform it on." He stopped in front of a computer terminal, where he reached out with his hand, and with one clawed finger, he pressed a few buttons, activating the holographic display. An orb of blue, green and white appeared in the air before them.

"One of our major fleets is in the vicinity of this planet, called Naboo. It seems to have large areas of grassland, as well as an abundance of water. From what I have heard, it has quite a cultural and historical significance, not that it matters to us. It is home to over 600 million sentients. A large number of them are Humans, however, most are from a rather intriguing species called Gungans."

Thrakhath furrowed his brow. "Gungans? Seems like a rather odd name."

The Emperor gave a wry gin. "Yes, and they are rather odd creatures, as well." He pressed another couple of buttons, and a representation of a Gungan appeared. "Amphibian in nature, they seem somewhat clumsy upon first glance. However, do not be fooled by their comical appearance. They can be dangerous combatants if pushed into action." The images dissipated, and he turned to his grandson.

"As you know, the ceremony needs to be performed on newly acquired territory. I trust this planet suits your desires?"

"It seems quite acceptable, grandfather."

"Very well. I will have all the relevant information sent to you. If you leave right away, you can rendezvous with the fleet very quickly, and from there, you can move in on Naboo." The Emperor headed back to his throne. "Now, if you will excuse me, I have some urgent business to discuss with your father."

Thrakhath bowed deeply. "Very well, my Lord. _Ek'rah skabak erg Thrak'Kilrah maks Rag'nith_ ," he intoned. With that, he turned and left.

His grandson now gone, the Emperor sat down on his throne once again. A mere few seconds after Thrakhath's departure, another Kilrathi entered the room. His facial structure suggested that he bore some resemblance to the Emperor and Thrakhath, and for good reason. This was Gilkarg nar Kiranka, one of the two sons sired by the Emperor; Thrakhath's father. The current Crown Prince of Kilrah.

Gilkarg had proved the more satisfactory of the Emperor's two sons; this was evidenced by the mere fact that he was still alive, as opposed to his brother. However, the Emperor had always felt deep down that his son was not quite the sort of individual that the Empire needed to rule them from the Palace on Kilrah. He was fierce and uncompromising, all right, like any decent Kilrathi would be. But he seemed to lack certain qualities that would have made him good for the job.

However, this did not seem to bother Gilkarg in the slightest. He proudly served the Empire as a Kalralahr; a supreme commander of the armed forces. Though this war had only gone on for just over a year, he had lead many of their forces in engagement with the Alliance. The blood of many an enemy was on his claws, either directly or indirectly.

Kalralahr Gilkarg bowed low before his father. "You summoned me, my Lord?" he asked. Despite the familial ties between them, such formality on his part could not be overlooked. Gilkarg knew that if he were to disappoint his father in any way, he would not hesitate to disembowel him.

"Yes, my son. I have a matter of great importance to discuss with you."

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 **Glossary of Kilrathi terms used in this chapter:**

 ** _Krajksh nai varkish h'hassrai?_ – "What have you to report?"**

 ** _tagugar_ – Ritualistic suicide. The Kilrathi equivalent of seppuku or kamikaze.**

 ** _sa'guk_ – One who is dead to his clan, even though he is still alive. They are believed to have disgraced their family name, either by displaying weakness or cowardice, or allowing themselves to be captured by the enemy.**

 ** _va ka garga ka naru ha garga_ – "Those not of the blood must have their blood spilt."**

 ** _Ek'rah skabak erg Thrak'Kilrah maks Rag'nith_ – "For the glory of Kilrah, the Emperor and the Empire."**

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 **(The Kilrathi terms used in this chapter, as well as the rest of the story, are courtesy of the site called 'the Tomes of Sivar'. Not sure if it is still active though, because it has been a while.)**


	5. Ghorah Khar I

**This chapter focuses on a character who was one of the more important ones in the _Wing Commander_ franchise.**

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 **CHAPTER FOUR**

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 **Ghorah Khar**

 **Kilrathi space**

The first thing that Ralgha nar Hhallas noticed when he stepped out into the streets was the smell of the clean, crisp air. He had been locked in a dark, damp cell for a total of ten days, and in that time, he had not smelt the air, nor felt the light of the sun on his face. This particular street was lined with _birha_ trees, which were in bloom now, and they were filling the air with a sweet scent. For a moment, it actually reminded him of his homeworld of Hhallas, where he had spent his childhood, until he had left for military training on Kilrah. Many Kilrathi would claim that they preferred the metallic splendour and tall buildings of the Imperial world, but Ralgha still yearned for the open spaces and untamed wilderness of his home planet. Ghorah Khar was not quite the same, but it still came close enough for his tastes. Right now, the sun was just starting to make its descent behind the tall mountains.

Setting off in a stride, Ralgha made his way down the street, carefully stepping over an unconscious fellow Kilrathi whom was obviously stoned on _arakh_ leaves. Quickening his pace, Ralgha headed towards his destination. He had been given orders to report to his vessel, and rendezvous with his assigned fleet, but he had one other place to go to first; one that none of his immediate superiors knew about.

Walking through the markets, Ralgha allowed his mind to wander a little. The traders here simply went about their business, selling food and other produce, trying to get by with their daily lives. For a moment, he actually felt jealous. Here he was, a _Thrak'hra_ , a high born noble of the Kilrathi race, who had long served his Emperor in the military, gaining honour and prestige by destroying his enemies in battle; perhaps the single greatest honour that his people could ever achieve by their own standards. And yet those who worked here in the markets, supplying the basic needs of the people, lived very simple lives, as if the war was something that was so far away that it simply was not worth worrying about. They seemed oblivious to the constant power struggles that went on within the walls of the palaces and temples, and out amongst the stars, where the Kilrathi were now fighting a war against not one but many alien races. A war that had only gone on for just over a year now, but already seemed as though it would continue for many, many more.

Spying the almost invisible doorway set deep into a dark corner of the marketplace, Ralgha casually, and yet very cautiously, made his way over to it. Reaching out with his clawed hand, he rapped on it several times intermittently; a secret knock used only by certain members of his cell. A moment later, a tiny slit appeared at the level of Ralgha's eyes, and another pair of orbs seemed to glow as they gazed out at him.

"Identify yourself," the low gruff voice asked in the Kilrathi tongue.

"It is I, lord Ralgha nar Hhallas," the noble replied. "I wish to speak to Lady Hassa." He kept his request simple. There was no telling as to whether or not anybody was listening in, but it was best to keep it safe.

"Wait one moment," the voice replied, and the slit cover was put back into place. Ralgha simply stood and waited patiently; he had been stuck in a cell for over a week, so he had a certain degree of patience at this point. Still, while he was waiting, he casually looked over his shoulder to see if anyone was spying on him. From what he could tell, nobody seemed to be paying him even the slightest bit of attention, and so, despite his misgivings, he allowed himself to relax. Only slightly, though.

After a minute of waiting, Ralgha heard the door unlock, and he stepped inside the dimly lit room. The Kilrathi who had let him in immediately closed the door behind him, and locked it again. Ralgha did not recognise him, but he immediately identified him as a member of the _Kilra'hra_ ; a peasant or commoner. It was fairly easy to distinguish them, as they had coarse fur of mottled brown and white colours, with flatter heads, and their teeth and nose were blunt. By contrast, noble Kilrathi, such as Ralgha, tended to have reddish-gold fur, sharp teeth and stout noses. In any other circumstance, the idea of a noble taking orders from a commoner was downright laughable, but in this case, Ralgha nonetheless obeyed the directions given to him by the lower-born as he was led down a flight of stairs. Upon reaching the bottom, the other Kilrathi stood back, standing at guard stiffly while the lord approached the single other figure in the centre of the room.

After a few seconds, the figure turned and fixed Ralgha with a hard and penetrating gaze that still managed to be soft and trusting as well. It was a look that the noble was all too familiar with. In the many years that he had known her, Lady Hassa had a gaze that seemed capable of penetrating one's soul, seeking out their fears and desires, and bringing them out into the light, no matter how much squirming or struggling they might have down. She had given Ralgha such a look so many times over the years, and even now, with the level of familiarity between the two of them, it still succeeded in making him feel scrutinised.

Nearly half a minute passed before the Kilrathi priestess allowed herself to relax visibly. "Lord Ralgha nar Hhallas," she stated calmly. "I am glad to see you alive and well after your ordeal."

"It was nothing that I could not handle, Lady Hassa," Ralgha replied dismissively, though his stance did not change in the slightest, nor did his gaze waver.

"Indeed." Hassa turned to the other individual still standing at the entrance of the room. "Go fetch some drinks as well as some _arakh_ leaves," she instructed. The commoner gave a slight bow in acknowledgement before disappearing.

Hassa stepped up to Ralgha and, in a gesture harkening back to their childhood days on Hhallas, she smoothed his mane of hair. Only then did he allow himself to finally relax. "I have to admit that I was somewhat worried about you," she told him.

"For my safety?" Ralgha replied with a grin. Among his fellow officers and soldiers, he was not exactly known for his wit or sense of humour, but Hassa knew him better.

Stepping back, the priestess allowed herself a chuff of laughter. "Among other things," she replied. She indicated that the two of them sit, which they did so. A second later, her demeanour shifted back to one of seriousness. "I was worried that they would break you, and in so doing, learn all about the growing rebellion."

"You need not have worried," Ralgha insisted, relaxing back in his woven fibre chair a little. "Even if they had tortured me, I would not have told them anything." The fact that he had avoided torture was because of his status in Kilrathi society. As a _Thrak'hra_ , he could not be tortured for information without direct permission from the Emperor himself. Commoners, or _Kilra'hra_ , did not have that same luxury.

"Your loyalty moves me," Hassa said. Shaking her head, she went on. "The council met last night, and they have reached a decision. If you had survived your interrogation, they would have a task for you to do. This rebellion against the Emperor can only go so far if we continue at the rate we are going. We are going to need some help. Help from the outside."

"You suggest that we consider contacting rebel cells on other colony worlds for assistance?" Ralgha asked.

Hassa shook her head. "I suggest we consider contacting the Galactic Alliance for assistance."

Ralgha's eyes went wider than they had ever been in his life. His brain attempted to come up with a viable response to what he had just heard, but could only formulate a few, and they all seemed to die on his tongue before he could verbalise them. "You wish for us to ask the Alliance for help?" he managed to choke out.

Hassa remained stone faced. "I understand your trepidations, Ralgha, but I feel that you are not, as is uttered by many of the Alliance races, looking at the big picture. This current conflict is different than any other that we have fought. In every one of our other wars, our goals were much clearer. They may not have always been the most noble of intentions, but they had been obvious nonetheless. But what is the point of this particular war? We started this fight against this Galactic Alliance because we wished to test ourselves, correct? But there is no point to it! We have been fighting for a year now, and in that time millions have perished on both sides, all for a few temporary and pointless exchanges of territories! We conquer one of their planets, so they attack one of ours. They destroy one of our outposts, so we wipe out one of theirs. It simply goes on and on, a matter of give and take on a massive scale." She calmed down and looked Ralgha square in the eye. "I ask you, why do you fight, Lord Ralgha?"

The Kilrathi noble was somewhat taken aback by the passionate speech given by the priestess, and it took him a moment to articulate a response. "I fight for honour. My clan was destroyed, and yet through my actions in combat, I can gain glory for them, so that others will know of the Hhallas name and treat it with the respect that it rightfully deserves."

Hassa smiled slightly. "A noble enough cause. But is it worth all that our people are being forced to endure? In the past, we Kilrathi have struck first and without compassion, and in the end, we emerged triumphant. On average, it took us little more than a year to dispatch our enemies, but now, we are fighting virtually the whole galaxy, and after a year, all we have managed to do is acquire a small chunk it, which we are barely holding on to.

"And yet the Emperor and his son and grandson, in their infinite wisdom, seek only to continue with their campaign of blood and destruction. If they continue on this path, it will lead only to ruin, Lord Ralgha. Our people will be forced to fight a war that will continue for many years." She stopped here, and fixed the other Kilrathi with a firm gaze.

Ralgha let out a sigh as he contemplated Hassa's words. She had delivered them with great passion and commitment; which only served to remind him as to why she was one of the most well known of the priestesses. When she spoke, everybody listened, regardless of his or her belief. Hassa was an individual capable of stirring emotions within a person's soul, and making them believe in something that was greater than them. It was no wonder that she was the one who was behind this current rebellion. It was like her own child, and she would do anything in order to protect and guide it, and Ralgha owed her that much.

At this moment, the servant finally returned with the refreshments, laying them carefully on the table before Lady Hassa dismissed him. The priestess and the noble took some time to sample the _arakh_ leaves, allowing its intoxicating qualities to calm them, relax them. Ralgha remembered the Kilrathi he had encountered on the way here; the one who had obviously not known when to ease up on the leaves, and thus ended up in the gutter completely stoned. Not wishing for a similar fate to befall him, Ralgha chose to go easy on the substance.

Allowing his mind to wander, Ralgha had to admit that for as long as he could remember, he had loyally served the Empire, fighting their battles wherever they were, and doing his best to bring honour to his clan. A clan that, for all intents and purposes, no longer existed. Still, he continued to serve, and when his people had launched their attack against the Galactic Alliance; an adversary unlike any other they had encountered, he had continued to serve, leading many honourable Kilrathi warriors into battle, where many of them had not returned alive. This Alliance had managed to do what no other enemy had done; they had managed to fight the Kilrathi to a standstill. But the Emperor on Kilrah and his family had continued to wage war, to send many more honourable warriors into battle, where they many of them would perish. And through it all, Ralgha, like any other Kilrathi, would continue to fight with pure blind faith that they would inevitably prevail.

Yet, he had to admit that his heart had started to grow heavy. It had become weighed down with grief, and inevitably, he started to become disenchanted with everything that he had become associated with. The Emperor, and more so his grandson Thrakhath, continued to profess in their 'wisdom' that the war would soon be over, that the Kilrathi would be victorious, and the entire galaxy would belong to them. But Ralgha had started to doubt that. Instead, he had started to see that if they continued down this path, then his people and the Galactic Alliance would be caught in a war that would continue year after year after year. He would be forced to send many more into pointless battle, only to die just as pointlessly.

As if she could see directly into his mind (and there were times when Ralgha had to admit that such a thing definitely seemed possible), Hassa spoke, her voice echoing his thoughts. "After all that you have been through, all that you have seen and witnessed, do you still have faith in the wisdom of our leaders? Of the Emperor on Kilrah, of his son, the Supreme Commander, and of his bloodthirsty grandson, Thrakhath? Do you still have faith in the belief that the Kilrathi Empire can achieve victory?"

Her words were loaded, and although he gave no verbal response, the way that Ralgha's head dipped forward ever so slightly and his eyes lowered to the ground gave Hassa all the response that she needed.

"We on Ghorah Khar are not the only ones who feel this way," Hassa continued. "There are other worlds throughout the Empire who seek to be free of the Emperor and his tyranny. But they are too afraid to speak out, for fear of reprisals. If we are to make any headway in our mission, we need to make a decisive move. One that sends out a message to everyone that not all of us are slaves to the Emperor's will." She grasped Ralgha by the shoulders. "You will be that message, Ralgha nar Hhallas." She let her arms drop back by her sides.

Sighing deeply, Ralgha looked at Hassa. "Very well then. What am I to do?"

"You will return to your ship, the _Ras Nik'hra_ , and receive your orders to rendezvous with the fleet heading for the planet known as Naboo for the Sivar-Eshrad. Instead, you are to head to the world called Eriadu. Our forces recently attacked it, only to be repelled by the Alliance. Once you are there, you will surrender your vessel to them."

Ralgha's eyes went wide again. "Surrender?!"

"As a token of your intention to defect," Hassa continued to describe calmly. "You will enter the system unshielded, and make no hostile movements of any kind. I understand that there is a certain amount of danger in such a venture; there may very well be some attempts by Alliance forces to attack you, in which case, you may attempt to escape, but do not fire upon them under any circumstances. We are attempting to earn their trust, and that will not happen if we start shooting at them. Do you understand, Lord Ralgha?"

Ralgha nodded sombrely. "I understand, Lady Hassa." He paused for a moment, then looked back at the priestess. "Do you ever wonder how life could have turned out differently for us? What if we had stayed on Hhallas? Would I have taken you as my mate, and raised cubs together? Lead a very different life to what we are living now, where the war was far away and not important?"

Hassa was thrown off slightly by the question. Truthfully, though, it was indeed one that she had pondered more than once. She had just never done so out loud. "I have wondered," she admitted. "But I have dedicated my life to Sivar, and you to the Emperor's service. Now your vow is being tested, but mine cannot be." Kilrathi religion was divided into several different cults, but all of them were dedicated to the worship of the war god Sivar; the only known deity in the Kilrathi faith. Not only that, but all of the factions were controlled by females; they were the ones who directed the prayers, offerings and festivities, and they were the ones who bestowed their blessings upon whatever person or venture sought it. Priestesses like Hassa were among the highest ranked individuals in their society, and such a profession literally lasted a lifetime.

Hassa reached up with her clawed hand to gently touch Ralgha on the side of his face. "But if you wish to honour me, you will assist me in our mission to overthrow the Emperor. This is what I ask of you."

Ralgha's feline lips tugged upwards in what would be perceived as a smile. "Then I will leave immediately."

* * *

When Ralgha nar Hhallas finally left Ghorah Khar in his vessel, the _Fralthi_ -class cruiser _Ras Nik'hra_ , he took a brief moment to look out at his crew as they carried out their assigned tasks. Each one of them was a loyal member of the Kilrathi Empire, each one dedicated to serving the Emperor on Kilrah, each intent on gaining honour and prestige in the heat of battle, and each one willing to give their life in battle.

And all Ralgha could think was about how he was about to betray them. Betray the trust that they had put in him. In battle one had to trust those who commanded them, and without it, their performance would fall by the wayside, which more often than not led to defeat.

But Ralgha had made a vow to Lady Hassa. He had sworn that he would help her rebellion in overthrowing the tyrants on Kilrah. And Ralgha nar Hhallas was nothing if not dedicated to his goals. With that in mind, he ordered his crew to plot a course for Eriadu. They were naturally confused by the fact that they were not going where they thought they were supposed to be, but they still had trust in their commander, and so they followed his orders.

If only they knew…

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 **Glossary of Kilrathi terms used in this chapter:**

 ** _Birha_ – A species of tree commonly found on Kilrathi colony worlds.**

 ** _Arakh_ – A popular Kilrathi intoxicant similar to tobacco, it is often chewed or made into the Kilrathi equivalent of tea.**

 ** _Thrak'hra_ – A noble, lord, or head of a hrai. Highborn Kilrathi are relatively easy to identify, and are characterized by their reddish gold fur, sharp teeth and stout noses.**

 ** _Kilra'hra_ – A common Kilrathi, a peasant. It is fairly easy to distinguish these from the nobler Kilrathi; their fur is coarse with mottled brown and white colours, their nose and teeth are blunt, and their heads are flatter.**


	6. Eriadu II

**Kind of a bummer that I am still not getting much attention on this story. I know it's understandable, considering how much activity _Star Wars_ gets, but still, a little bit of appreciation goes a long way.**

 **X**

* * *

 **CHAPTER FIVE**

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 **Aboard the GA Star Destroyer** _ **Dragon's Claw**_

 **In orbit above Eriadu**

It had been just nine days since the Galactic Alliance had driven off the Kilrathi invasion force, and in that time, they had been very busy. The cogs of the great military machine never stopped working, even when the bombs had stopped falling and the guns had died down.

Though the Kilrathi were gone, the effects of their attack on Eriadu could still be seen and felt. During the attack, they had carried out devastating bombardments, which had started in the latter half of the battle; it seemed that once it became apparent to them that they would not emerge victorious in this particular skirmish, they set about doing as much damage as they could. Whether this was because they wished to turn a victory for the Alliance into a pyrrhic one, or because it tied into their violent and bloodthirsty natures, or even out of some form of spite, individuals like Jacen Solo could not figure out. Not that it particularly mattered to them. What did matter was that the battle was won, albeit at a rather high cost.

The Kilrathi had focused their bombardment at the planet's capital city; located in the southern hemisphere and stretching out over more than a hundred square kilometres, it was home to millions upon millions of people all crammed in together, many in close quarters. For the Kilrathi, with their seemingly insatiable bloodlust and appetite for destruction, it was a target too tempting for them to pass up. By the end of the bombardment, more than three hundred thousand people had perished. Needless to say, most of Eriadu's surviving population were now eager to shed some Kilrathi blood.

But for now, the focus was on saving those who were in trouble, getting the planetary defences back up to strength, and begin the arduous process of rebuilding. And Jacen had been granted something of a front row seat for such a thing. For the last few days, after recuperating from the battle, he had been piloting shuttles down to the surface, transferring equipment and rescue personnel, as well as flying wounded civilians up to the medical facilities that had been brought in and positioned in orbit above the planet. On the surface, amid the ruins of the devastated areas of Eriadu City, he had been using his finely honed Jedi abilities to locate anyone who was still trapped inside the rubble, and every now and then, he was also called upon to use his lightsaber to cut through any obstacles.

For the most part, Jacen had been more than willing to do his part in helping people out, but Jedi or not, he was still just one person, and after working tirelessly for several days, he had finally requested his commanders that he be allowed a brief furlough to relax for a while. Despite initial trepidation, they agreed, stating that he had done more than enough already, and with that, Jacen had made his way back up to the _Dragon's Claw_ , where he had yet another refreshing shower before collapsing back into bed.

At the moment though, he was sitting up on his bunk, or rather propped up on his side, turning a holomessage projector over and over in his hands. It was a simple metal disc-shaped object with a flat projection crystal on one side, and a few buttons on the edge. He ran his thumb over the 'play' button, wondering if he should press it again. He had already watched the message contained on it twice now, and was contemplating doing so a third time.

Was there any real point? The message would not change, would it? It anything else, it would probably just make him miss her even more, right? The thought turned over in his head even as he continued to turn over the disc in his hands.

Eventually, Jacen came to a decision. _What the hell_ , he thought. _Couldn't hurt, I guess_. With that, he pressed the 'play' button, and an image shimmered to life, seeming to hover in the air above the projector. It was that of a beautiful young woman. Even through the blue hue of the projection, her captivating grey eyes managed to shine through, and her flaming red hair seemed to flow around her head like a wave of fire. She wore a skin-tight lizard hide armour, over which were a couple of elegant shawls wrapped around her neck and arms. It may have seemed like an odd combination, but it was one that reflected her dual heritage.

" _Jacen, my love,"_ the young woman began, _"I hope this message finds you well and healthy. I would also hope that you would be happy as well, but if you feel the same way that I do, then I suppose that would be a little too much."_ She gave a wan smile before looking downward for a moment. Upon looking back up, she continued. _"My parents are still encountering some difficulty with the nobles. They feel as though the current conflict is the Alliance's war, and not the Consortium's. They believe that the Kilrathi have no interest in Hapes, and therefore see little reason in becoming involved. It seems they are simply repeating what happened during the Yuuzhan Vong War, not remembering what happened to us back then. Mother and Father are doing their best to make them see reason, but it is a difficult task. Even then, much of my grandmother's poisonous influence remains. I don't think I need to remind you about that."_

No, she definitely did not. Jacen remembered all too well the hassles that they encountered with the Hapan nobles several years earlier, back when the galaxy was caught up in the turmoil of the war against the extragalactic Yuuzhan Vong. The blue-blooded Hapan backstabbers had been reluctant to throw the weight of the Consortium into the war effort, and they had nearly paid the price for it. Not only that, but the red-haired beauty's grandmother, the ever-scheming and vehemently anti-Jedi former Queen Mother, had used the chaos to gain back some measure of control. She had even attempted to murder her daughter-in-law, and it was only the timely arrival of the Jedi that had saved her. The former queen had been arrested, but even now, her influence lingered.

 _Whoever that philosopher was, they were right. Those who forget history are doomed to repeat it,_ Jacen thought. He focused back on the message.

" _I have decided that I will be joining my fellow Jedi soon enough,"_ the red haired woman continued. _"My parents told me that they will respect my decision, though I can tell that they are concerned for me nonetheless. I feel that they are simply growing weary over all of the fighting this galaxy has endured in the last few decades."_ The young woman looked straight ahead, as if she was gazing directly at the young man viewing the message. _"But they know where my heart lies. They know it is with you, my love."_ Even through a holomessage, hearing her say such words was enough to cause Jacen's heart to flutter for a moment.

The woman straightened up slightly. _"Therefore, I will be spending a few more weeks attempting to soothe several of the situations here on Hapes, but afterwards, I will be joining you to fight against the Kilrathi. And… hopefully, to spend some time with you."_ Here, she gave a shy smile, and rubbed her right hand against her upper left arm, just above the elbow. It was a move that seemed almost absentminded, but the significance was definitely not lost on the young man. No, it would _never_ be lost on him.

" _I will be seeing you soon, Jacen,"_ the woman finished. _"May the Force, and my love, always be with you."_ With that, the message ended, and the image dissipated.

With a sigh, Jacen placed the disc on the bed next to him, then reached up with his hands to rub his face. At times like this, he could not help but contemplate the events that had led him to this point in his life. He had only been fourteen when he was forced to take the life of another sentient being for the first time, and that had been when the New Republic and the Jedi Academy on Yavin 4 had been dealing with the threat posed by the Shadow Academy, a place where Jacen himself had been taken after being abducted, along with his twin sister Jaina and their Wookiee friend Lowbacca. Fortunately, two people had come and rescued them. One had been his uncle, the man who was now the Grand Master of the Jedi Order, Luke Skywalker himself. The other had been the young woman from the message. The Crown Princess of the Hapes Consortium, Tenel Ka Chume Ta Djo.

Tenel Ka. Even after all this time, Jacen still missed her. He missed her presence, and the simple joy just from being around her. He missed her smile and her laugh; two things which had been all too rare during their time together at the Academy. Even though Jacen had told countless jokes in an attempt to get a rise out of her, she had never smiled. Now, she smiled often when in his presence. He missed the times when he would hold her in his arms, and she in turn would wrap her own arms around him.

Arms. Plural. This brought back the moment when Tenel Ka had absentmindedly rubbed her hand against her left arm, just above the elbow. It had been several years since the operation, and the scar had mostly faded, though one could still see it if they looked closely enough. From that point down, Tenel Ka's arm was artificial. A replacement for the real one, which she had lost many years earlier in a lightsaber training accident. The focusing crystal in her weapon was flawed, causing the blade to short out, and her opponent's blade to unintentionally slice off the limb.

That opponent had been none other than Jacen Solo.

Despite being intensely wracked with guilt, Jacen had been forgiven by Tenel Ka, who claimed that the blame lay with her, since she had not taken the time to build her weapon properly. When she built her new lightsaber, Tenel Ka made sure that she did not repeat the mistake. And for years afterwards, she had refused to accept an artificial replacement limb, opting instead to improve upon what she still had. It was a choice that Jacen found himself admiring her greatly for. Even more so than he already did.

In the later years of the Yuuzhan Vong War, however, Tenel Ka finally decided that she was better off having two working arms once again, so she had the procedure. The new left arm was as lifelike as the old one, and contained artificial nerve sensors that allowed her to feel, as well.

As for the relationship between Tenel Ka and Jacen, they had always loved each other, ever since they were teenagers at the Jedi Academy. In the time since the incident, they had witnessed one conflict after the other. From the Shadow Academy and the anti-Human organisation called the Diversity Alliance, to the unbelievably devastating conflict against the Yuuzhan Vong, and now to this current war against the aggressive Kilrathi race. Time and time again, the two Jedi had been on the frontlines, and thus were repeatedly forced to put whatever relationship they had on hold to deal with the seemingly never-ending slew of crises.

And if that were not enough, there was the fact that Tenel Ka was the heir to the throne of the Hapes Consortium; a part of the galaxy consisting of sixty-three worlds hidden by nebulae and veils known as the Transitory Mists. There were three things that the Hapans were notorious for; firstly, being incredibly beautiful to the point of unbelievable vanity, where even the slightest blemish was anathema to them; secondly, being so fiercely matriarchal that males were often treated as second-class citizens; and thirdly, for being very distrustful, if not outright hostile, towards the Jedi.

And now their next Queen Mother just so happened to _be_ a Jedi. Who just happened to be in love with another Jedi. Jacen could not help but find it ironic. If he and Tenel Ka did eventually get married (and he hoped with every fibre of his being that they did), then he would most likely become the King of Hapes. When that happened, then the Hapan people would find themselves being ruled by the people they had come to fear. Yep, definitely ironic.

Any further musings on Jacen's part came to a halt when the door to his quarters slid open. Sitting up, he noticed that the person standing there was someone who was, for all intents and purposes, family. A few years younger than him, and several inches shorter, the young woman had golden blonde hair and piercing green eyes. Looking to her feet, Jacen noticed that she wore no shoes. Not surprising in the least, since Tahiri usually hated wearing shoes.

"To what do I owe the honour of this visit?" Jacen asked, giving his new guest the charming lopsided grin that was often employed by members of the Solo family, particularly the male ones.

The blonde woman smiled back. "Nothing in particular," she replied. "Just visiting my big bro and seeing what he is up to."

Jacen continued grinning. "Nothing in particular."

The title of 'big bro' was one of affection that Tahiri frequently bestowed upon Jacen, whereas Jaina was her 'big sis'. Though not an actual member of the Solo family, even by adoption, they had cared a great deal about Tahiri ever since she had become friends with the twins' younger brother Anakin. Throughout their younger years at the academy, the pair had been inseparable, going off on quests together, getting in trouble together, and otherwise being in situations where Tahiri would chatter incessantly to the point where Anakin may very well have considered stuffing his ears with something just so he could have had a moment of peace. Despite this, it seemed as though romantic feelings may have also been developing between the two, in which case it was probably just a matter of time until they got married, and Tahiri became a member of the family in the legal sense as well.

But then the Yuuzhan Vong had invaded, and everything had changed. Forced into a war for the very soul of the galaxy, Anakin, Tahiri, and their fellow Jedi had been plunged headfirst into darkness, waking up every day feeling as though it could very well be their last. Then came the instance where Tahiri had been captured by the Yuuzhan Vong and 'shaped'. Her captors intended to replace her personality with one that was loyal to the alien invaders, and she had only managed to come through it all by merging her new personality with the original one. Tahiri still managed to escape, but was left with scars both physical and mental. The dull marks on her forehead could still be seen, and she was now essentially half Yuuzhan Vong, if only in mind. But the fact that her positive attitude managed to still shine through provided hope to those who knew and cared for her.

More to the point, it was this that had caused Tahiri and Anakin to finally admit their feelings for each other, and they tentatively pursued a relationship. This gave them a semblance of hope; that they could still achieve some happiness amidst the darkness and suffering at war. Later on, Anakin had led a strike team to Myrkr, whose mission it was to destroy a Yuuzhan Vong facility that was breeding voxyn; a deadly creature created specifically to hunt down and exterminate Jedi. Anakin had been seriously wounded on that mission, falling into a coma for many weeks afterward, but had remarkably managed to survive. With the destruction of the facility at Myrkr, the Jedi were galvanised in their actions, and made a more concerted effort to defeat the extragalactic invaders.

Then tragedy struck again, this time with much more devastating consequences. The Yuuzhan Vong were developing biochemical weapons at a facility located in orbit above some uninhabited planet on the edges of the Core Worlds. Once again, Anakin lead the strike. In the end, the facility was completely destroyed, and much of the Shaper caste was wiped out, thus crippling their ability to make war.

Anakin Solo had survived the mission to Myrkr, but he did not survive this mission.

A few months later, the fledgling Galactic Alliance retook Coruscant, and the Yuuzhan Vong officially surrendered. People around the galaxy celebrated that the seemingly unstoppable enemy had finally been defeated, and that everything was once again at peace. But Tahiri had not felt like celebrating. Instead, she had felt cheated that the man she loved lost his life just a few measly months before the fighting ended. That they had been so cruelly deprived of the life they could have shared together.

But though Anakin was gone, his family and friends were there for Tahiri. They took her in and cared for her, making her feel as though she still had somewhere to belong, and that more than made up for any misgivings. For all intents and purposes, Han and Leia were her adoptive parents, Jacen was her brother, and Jaina was her sister. She had a family that she loved, and who loved her in return, and that was all that mattered.

Tahiri flopped down on the end of Jacen's bed. "So, how's Her Royal Highness of Hapes doing?"

Jacen raised an eyebrow. "What makes you think I would know?" he asked in a challenging tone.

Tahiri grinned. "You've got that look on your face that you usually get when you're talking to her, taking messages from her, or even thinking about her. Plus, you've got that message disc from her. It's not hard to put it all together."

 _Damn her perceptiveness,_ Jacen thought. He thought about changing the topic, and felt his eyes go down to Tahiri's bare feet. "Don't your feet ever get cold?"

"Don't you ever get tired listening to Tenel Ka's messages over and over again?"

 _Ooh, nicely played,_ Jacen admitted. Tahiri saw through his thin ploy. She was definitely no fool. He opened his mouth to come up with some kind of retort, then closed it again and sighed. "I've only played it three times," he admitted. "I just miss her, that's all."

Tahiri laid a comforting hand on her adoptive brother's arm. "Hey, that's okay. I actually miss her too." At Jacen's look, she continued. "I've known Tenel Ka for a long time, and besides, since you're pretty much my older brother, and you will most likely marry her someday, then that will make her my sister-in-law. And then, of course, I'm hoping the two of you will have plenty of little nieces and nephews for me to dote upon." She gave a grin, and Jacen responded with a groan, partly because she had reverted back to her 'chatterbox' mode, and partly because she was making light of the prospect of him and Tenel Ka having children.

Jacen was about to say something, but was cut off as an announcement came over the speakers. "Jedi Knights Solo and Veila, your presence is requested in the hanger."

Looking at each other, the two Jedi wondered what the sudden emergency could be. Then they simply shrugged, got up, and were on their way, stopping briefly at Tahiri's quarters so she could put on her shoes.

* * *

Upon arrival in the hanger, Jacen and Tahiri were still unsure as to what they would find, but they nonetheless received a pleasant surprise when they beheld the very familiar craft that was now docked on the _Claw_ 's deck; the ancient and very banged up but still formidable craft of Jacen's father; the _Millennium Falcon_. The vessel was almost a century old, and yet it was just as much home to Jacen as the Imperial Palace on Coruscant or the Jedi Temple on Yavin 4; two places where he had spent much of his childhood, and two places that had ultimately been destroyed by the Yuuzhan Vong.

When the _Falcon_ 's ramp had come down, Jacen had jogged up and immediately embraced both of his parents. A moment later, Tahiri joined in. Despite their age age and the strife they had been through over the last three-and-a-half decades, Han Solo and Leia Organa Solo still carried themselves with strength and confidence, yet at the same time they exuded love, warmth and caring towards their family and friends.

A moment later, a tall and shaggy Wookiee made his way down the ramp. Lumpwaroo, often referred to as either Waroo or Lumpy, was the son of Chewbacca. The great Wookiee had been Han Solo's constant companion for many decades, with a partnership beginning long before they had even met Luke and Ben Kenobi in that cantina in Mos Eisley. Tragically, Chewie had died at the beginning of the Yuuzhan Vong War, and although Han still carried the pain of his passing inside him, the fond memories of the time they spent together more than made up for it. Lumpy was a family member who was as cherished and beloved as his father was. But unlike his cousin Lowbacca, he did not possess any sensitivity to the Force.

Following the Wookiee was a silver droid. Em-Teedee had originally begun his existence as a small translator droid the size of an average Human's fist, and his main purpose was to provide translation for Lowbacca. The Wookiee could understand virtually every known language, but like all others of his race, he could only speak his native tongue. So the Solo family's loyal protocol droid, C-3PO had designed M-TD to translate Lowie's growls for anybody listening to him.

During the Yuuzhan Vong War, however, Em-Teedee had undergone a procedure that transferred his consciousness from his original fist-sized form into a new body similar to that of his creator, but with slightly more strength, speed and dexterity. Despite this, he stayed as far away from the fighting as he could. Understandable, since the Yuuzhan Vong despised technology in all forms, especially droids.

The greetings out of the way and the ship secure the Solo family made their way to the mess hall, where they were met by Wedge Antilles, and everybody, with the exception of Em-Teedee, of course, grabbed some food and sat down for what passed as a family meal.

"What exactly is this stuff?" Han Solo asked, poking at an off-white lump on his plate. Next to him, Leia rolled her eyes. Naturally, it would be her husband to make some kind of comment about the food.

"I think it's some kind of mashed potato," Tahiri replied absently just before she took a mouthful of vegetables covered in gravy.

"And they actually serve you this stuff?" The look on Han's face was incredulous.

"If you just don't think too much about it, you probably won't even taste it," Jacen offered.

Han gave a huff in response. "And I thought the food on the _Falcon_ was occasionally bad. Hey Lumpy! I'll trade you this for one of your steaks!"

Down the table, Lumpy gave a short growl that could only be interpreted as a negative and brought one furry arm around his plate as if to protect it. As a Wookiee, his diet almost exclusively consisted of plenty of red meat, usually served raw, and the current contents of his plate served as testament to that. And he was obviously not interested in trading any of it.

Naturally it was Leia, the career politician, who tactfully changed the subject to one of more importance. "So I understand that the two of you were instrumental in driving the Kilrathi off Eriadu, correct?" She directed the question towards Jacen and Tahiri.

Jacen gave a casual shrug. "Something like that," he said as he continued eating his food. "I flew around in my X-wing, blowing up a few bad guys and such. Nothing big."

"Nothing big?" Wedge asked in a surprised tone. He turned to Leia. "He practically saved this ship." He then proceeded to recount Jacen's actions in the last few moments of the space battle; how he had managed to fight of a wave of enemy fighters, and then send one smashing back into the capital ship's hanger. "That action crippled the Ralatha and forced them to bug out. The _Dragon's Claw_ would have fared worse if it had not been for your son's actions."

"What can I say, he's a great kid," Han put in, his voice displaying no small amount of fatherly pride. For his part, Jacen kept his head down, hoping that nobody would see the blush beginning to spread across his face.

"And Tahiri, you were responsible for leading the assault on the Kilrathi's ground base, weren't you?" Wedge pressed. Tahiri stopped eating for a second to give a small smile and nod.

While Wedge and Jacen had been preoccupied with the battle in orbit, Tahiri had been on the frontlines of the ground fighting. The Kilrathi had occupied much of Eriadu City, and were even using some innocent civilians as living shields. Tahiri had led a small force of troops around the enemy lines to outflank them and attack the Kilrathi from the sides and behind them. The act had caught them by surprise, and Tahiri's group had soundly defeated them with no civilian casualties. Of course, there had been plenty of civilian deaths when the Kilrathi had bombarded the city from orbit, but she could hardly be blamed for that.

"You did good," said Leia. "Both of you." She looked at the two young adults; one her biological son, and the other her daughter in every regard except blood. Despite all of them being Jedi and being forced to take on heavy responsibilities, she would always care for them and love them, seeing them as her children. Her compliment warmed both of their beings.

"Mistress Leia," Em-Teedee spoke up, "you also wished me to remind you about the message sent to you by Master Calrissian."

"Oh yes, thank you, Em-Teedee. I also heard from Lando back on Bespin. Apparently Jaina and her squad did a good job at taking out the enemy facility. Afterwards, Lando decided to thank the squad by giving them some R & R around Cloud City, and a few of them made bit of a scene."

"What kind of scene?" Jacen asked.

"I'm not sure, but I think Anja might have started a couple of fights in one of the casinos. In fact, from what I heard, the only two who did not cause trouble were a pair of Chiss in the squadron."

"Yeah, well, you know how those guys are like," Han put in.

Wedge nodded in response. "No wonder my brother-in-law fits in with them so well." Wedge's sister Syal, a famous actor otherwise known as Wynssa Starflare, had married Imperial Baron Soontir Fel, whom Han had known during his brief tenure at the Imperial Academy. The Baron had provided valuable assistance against the Yuuzhan Vong, and despite their differences, the men actually managed to get along fine.

"Speaking of which, how are the Chiss doing against the Kilrathi?" Leia pressed.

"Okay, I guess," Wedge shrugged. "I don't get that many reports, but from what I can tell, the Chiss are doing a decent job of keeping the cats out of their territory. They don't tell me much more than that, I'm afraid." That was another trait of the blue-skinned, red-eyed humanoids from the Unknown Regions; they tended to play things very close to the vest and did not offer information freely.

Any further discussions were put on halt as a high-pitched beeping noise suddenly came from Wedge's comlink. Muttering under his breath, the GA Admiral pulled it from his belt, pressed a button and spoke harshly but firmly into it. "This had better be an emergency, because I gave you explicit instructions not to bother me unless that was the case."

"Very sorry for the interruption sir," the tinny male voice came out from the speaker of the handheld device. "But there is something that I believe requires your immediate attention."

Wedge rolled his eyes. "And what would that 'something' be?" he asked in a tone that bordered on sarcastic.

"A Kilrathi vessel has just entered the system."

For everybody who was listening to this exchange, all other emotions and feelings went out the proverbial window, to be replaced with a sense of urgency. "I'm on my way," Wedge replied before standing up, replacing the comlink on to his belt, then sped towards the door. Unbidden, everyone else followed him, and he did nothing to stop them.

Being in a somewhat clunky droid body, Em-Teedee obviously trailed behind the others. "Oh, don't bother waiting up for the droid!" he grumbled sarcastically. "Honestly, I wonder if my predecessor See-Threepio had to put up with this."

* * *

Moments later, those who had just recently been dining in the mess hall of the _Dragon's Claw_ now found themselves on the bridge. The guards had obviously attempted to halt them, but General Antilles quickly silenced their protests. The Corellian made his way over to the communications officer and bombarded him with questions about the nature of the call.

"Scans report it is a single Kilrathi vessel sir, and the profile suggests that it is a…" he paused as he scrolled through the list of enemy vessels until he stopped at the correct one, " _Fralthi-_ class cruiser."

" _Fralthi_?" Han echoed. Like most other people in the 'known' galaxy, he was still somewhat unfamiliar with the kind of vehicles the Kilrathi used. The names alone served to confuse him.

"It's a mass-produced cruiser," the officer explained, reading from his screen. "It's a relatively heavy ship with heavy guns and shielding, but on average, they are still not much of a match for our ships. Usually there are several of them in one wave in order to combat our forces."

"Do they carry any fighters?" Jacen inquired.

"About twenty," the officer replied.

"Should we prepare to engage?" Tahiri asked apprehensively.

Despite the fact that it was Wedge's command, it was Leia who answered. Fortunately, he was more than willing to defer to her advice. "I don't think we should. There is just one of them, and they are not launching any of their fighters. They don't even seem to be making any hostile moves towards us."

"There's definitely something to this," Jacen murmured.

As if in response, the communication officer spoke up, his words directed at the Corellian general. "Sir, the vessel is contacting us."

Wedge's brow furrowed in confusion. "Put them on speaker," he ordered. "I want to talk to them." The com officer carried out his orders, and a moment later, he gave the General a nod, indicating that he could go ahead.

Wedge spoke clearly and firmly. "Attention, unidentified Kilrathi vessel, this is Admiral Wedge Antilles of the Galactic Alliance Star Destroyer _Dragon's Claw_. You have entered space that is under our control. Please state your identification and mission in this area. Refusal to comply will have dire consequences."

After what seemed like an eternity, but was in actuality only a few seconds, a response came over the radio. The words were in the Galactic Basic language, but the tone, underlying growl, and overall huskiness indicated that the speaker was definitely a member of the Kilrathi species.

 _"General Wedge Antilles, I am Lord Ralgha nar Hhallas of the_ Fralthi _cruiser_ Ras Nik'hra _. I have arrived here on behalf of the rebellion on Ghorah Khar. I am here to offer you an alliance with them."_

The tension on the bridge shifted to confusion. "Did I hear you correctly, Lord Ralgha nar Hhallas?" Wedge asked, using the alien's full title since he was unsure exactly how to address him. "Did you say that you wish to join forces with us?"

 _"Affirmative, General,"_ the Kilrathi replied. _"I wish to announce my defection to the Galactic Alliance, and as a token of my sincerity, I hereby turn over myself, my vessel the_ Ras Nik'hra _, and its crew. I humbly request that they be treated with the proper amount of respect."_

Wedge paused for a moment, the look in his eyes indicating that his mind was ticking over. "What assurances do we have that your crew will not attack us at the first available opportunity?"

 _"I regret to inform you that my crew have no intention of defecting,"_ Ralgha responded somewhat sorrowfully. _"However, for the safety of all involved, I have managed to subdue and detain them so that no harm can be caused on their part. I assure you General, my vessel will make no hostile moves against you. We are completely at your mercy."_

Taking a deep breath, Wedge said, "Please wait for a moment," then indicated to his com officer to mute the channel. He turned to the others who had followed him in. "Any suggestions?"

"If Ackbar was here, I'm pretty sure he'd say 'It's a trap!'" Han commented. This received a dirty look from his wife.

"I think he's serious," Jacen spoke up. He was standing with his arms crossed over his chest, and his brandy coloured eyes gazing firmly out the Star Destroyer's front view port, out in the direction of the errant Kilrathi cruiser.

"You sure?" Han asked.

"I've been in a fair few situations where someone had offered to turn themselves over. Some of them were just lying in order to lull their opponents into a false sense of security. But this Ralgha guy seems to be genuine. I can't even find any sense of falseness in the Force. In my opinion, we should take him up on his offer.

"Besides, if what he's saying is true, then there are others among the Kilrathi who are not that loyal to their leaders. Getting them on our side has the potential of gaining valuable resources for us; insights into the enemy, more allies to aid us in the fight, and other important things."

Leia smiled appraisingly at her son. "When did you get so grown up?" she asked jokingly and proudly.

Jacen gave another casual grin. "Must be my mother's influence. And my uncle's. Couldn't be my dad's, that's for sure." This prompted a laugh from everyone present, except for Han, of course.

"Why you…" Han started, before Leia placed a hand on his arm, calming him down.

Forcing the grin off his face, Wedge turned back to the communication officer and indicated that he open the channels once again. When this was done, he addressed his Kilrathi counterpart. "Very well, Lord Ralgha nar Hhallas, we hereby accept your offer of surrender. We will send a couple of shuttles over to your vessel, and I ask that you comply with the boarding party's commanding officer's every order, so as to make the transition as smooth as possible."

 _"Very well, General Wedge Antilles,"_ Ralgha responded. A moment later, the communication between the two vessels ceased.

Wedge turned to the group standing behind him and gave a smile. "So, any volunteers?"

* * *

 **X**

 **Update (02/06/2018): I actually updated this chapter to have italics in the proper place. Sorry, but I'm a bit picky like that. (By the way, the date is the 2nd of June, not February 6th; Americans think everybody does things in their format, but nobody does.)**

 **I have to confess that much of the story regarding Ralgha's defection comes from the _Wing Commander_ tie-in novel _Freedom Flight_ , by Mercedes Lackey. Obviously I tried to include as much of my own stuff as possible. Even so, this is just fan fiction, so the rules are less stringent.**

 **Speaking of which, Mercedes Lackey is apparently one of those authors who refuses to tolerate any fan fiction derived from her own intellectual property. That's her choice, obviously, but I for one would be somewhat honoured if someone made a fanfic based on my works.**

 **By the way, I understand that Em-Teedee was destroyed in the NJO series, but since this is an alternate timeline of sorts, I changed it so that he survived. I also decided to give him an actual body, rather than just have him being a floating orb.**

 **As for the circumstances regarding Anakin Solo's death, I never read the NJO series, but I always thought the way he died at Myrkr was kind of sucky, so I changed it to something slightly more heroic. At least, I hope I did.**


	7. Eriadu III

**CHAPTER SIX**

 **x**

 **x**

 **Kilrathi Fralthi-class cruiser** _ **Ras Nik'hra**_

 **In orbit over Eriadu**

A _Thrak'hra_ was usually expected to maintain a strong sense of decorum and dignity, particularly when on the bridge of his vessel. But at this particular moment, Ralgha nar Hhallas could not help but feel a little sick to his stomach. At the moment, he stood on the bridge of the _Ras Nik'hra_ , alone save for a few handpicked individuals. Like all others on the ship, they had not intended to defect, but they had stayed loyal to him, and would continue to follow his orders even when it went against everything that they believed in. If nothing else, Ralgha could not help but admire them for that.

As for the rest of his crew, Ralgha had managed to subdue them in the least-damaging way that he could think of. As they had approached the planet, he made a general call that all members of his crew report to the armoury and get ready for battle. He emphasised _all_ crewmembers, no exceptions. The soldiers, pilots, officers and even maintenance workers had all made their way to the large room, where they congregated to prepare and await further instructions.

Instead, they had received a series of unexpected and unpleasant surprises. The first had been when they noticed that there were no weapons or amour of any sort in the room; Ralgha had removed them and stored them somewhere else shortly after the trip began. The second surprise was when all doors to the room had slammed shut and sealed themselves, and no amount of budging or straining would open them. The last and most unpleasant had been when Ralgha himself had gotten on the com channels and announced that they would all be in the custody of their sworn enemies, the Galactic Alliance.

After this announcement, a brief but fierce blast of static on the speakers at Ralgha's end indicated that the ones in the makeshift brig had met with a sudden termination; most likely because one or several of his prisoners had gone into a fit of rage and smashed the speakers so that they would not have to listen to the voice of their treasonous lord any further. Ralgha had little doubt that most, if not all, of his soon-to-be-former crew were now cursing his very name and wishing that the wrath of Sivar would fall upon him.

In a way, Ralgha felt as though he had committed a mutiny against his own crew. Traditionally, such an act consisted of a crew rising up against their captain, but in this case, it was the opposite. It seemed an irony of sorts. Not that it helped to ease the guilt that he was feeling.

But Ralgha told himself that he was simply doing what was necessary. He had made a vow to Lady Hassa and the other rebels on Ghorah Khar. If they were ever going to have any chance in overthrowing the Emperor and ending his bloodthirsty campaign, this was the price that he would have to pay.

He just hoped that it would not prove to be too high.

Standing next to him was a Kilrathi a few years younger than him. For as long as Ralgha could remember, Kirha had been standing beside him, carrying out whatever orders his liege lord had given him. In Kilrathi society, it was not uncommon for a whole clan of _Kilra'hra_ to swear allegiance to a _hrai_ of nobles, and this usually continued for generations afterwards. The servant, or retainer, of a liege lord was there to obey their master utterly, and without question. A servant could not do _anything_ without express permission from their liege lord, from eating to sleeping, and even going to the bathroom.

It may have seemed cruel to people from most other species, but in a way, it also ensured its effectiveness. By displaying unflinching loyalty to their master, the servant could not be exploited into harming them in any way, and the servant could also be protected, as the liege lord would notice if they had not come by recently to receive their orders.

It was this that made Kirha the perfect confidant in which Ralgha could share his secret, for which he was grateful. With the pressure the Kilrathi noble had found himself under, had he been forced to keep it to himself, it might have caused him to go insane.

Before setting off from Ghorah Khar, Ralgha had taken Kirha aside and spoken to him privately…

 _"Kirha, I must have one person aboard this vessel with whom I must confide in. I have always trusted you, and I must ask you to continue trusting me now. Can you do that?"_

 _Kirha had immediately dropped to his knee before his liege lord, and tilted his head upward, presenting his throat, as was their custom. "I am sworn to obey you, my lord. It has always been like that ever since my father offered me in service to you. Though I was only a cub on that day, the memory still burns brightly in my mind."_

 _Lord Ralgha nodded. "Indeed. Kirha, what I am about to ask of you is without a doubt the greatest and most difficult order I have ever asked of you." He gestured with a claw, indicating that his servant should rise back up to his feet. "Our orders are to rendezvous with our fleet heading towards the world known as Naboo. However, we will not be going there. We will instead be heading towards Eriadu."_

 _Kirha's eyes went wide. "Eriadu? But, my lord, our enemies drove our forces from that planet only a few days ago."_

" _Indeed they did." Ralgha's features softened. "You remember what happened to my_ hrai _last year, do you not? What happened to them in that battle at my homeworld?"_

 _Kirha nodded in response. "I remember. Our enemies, this… Galactic Alliance… managed to strike into our territory and made a raid on your homeworld of Hhallas. Your family was destroyed. My family had been serving them loyally for generations before that. They perished in that battle too."_

" _That battle was rather early in the war," Ralgha interjected. "And yet, the Emperor and his subordinates simply sat back and watched it all happen. And they did not care in the least." As he talked, his tone progressively changed into a snarl. "The Alliance attacked my world because we had attacked them first, and yet after my family died, we struck back at them, and then they struck back at us." He gave Kirha a glare that actually made him feel slightly uncomfortable. "Do you not see, Kirha? That is all this war is! A pointless exchange of territories, and worthless sacrifice of lives, and for what?! So that the Emperor, in all of his supposedly infinite wisdom, can revel in all of what he perceives to be HIS victories, all while his backside warms the Throne of Kilrah!"_

 _Kirha's features now clearly displayed shock and horror at what his lord was saying. "But, my lord, what you speak can be interpreted as treason! The Emperor…"_

" _The Emperor," Ralgha cut in, "is corrupt and vile. And my words do indeed speak of treason. For several months now, I have been working with the rebels on Ghorah Khar, attempting to overthrow the Emperor. That is why I was arrested and subjected to many days of interrogation, but I kept my silence, and they did not discover my connection to the rebels."_

 _Ralgha placed a hand on Kirha's shoulder. "That is why we must go to Eriadu. If we are to have any chance in overthrowing the Emperor, we will need help from the Alliance. I know I am asking you to do something that you would never have even considered under normal circumstances, and I have little doubt that you would rather die than surrender to our enemies, but I am going to need your help on this Kirha. I am sorry for placing you in this situation, but we have no other choice. I need to know that you are with me on this."_

And even though it had gone against every fibre of Kirha's being, he had agreed to go along with his master's plan. After all, in the Kilrathi liege lord system, the loyalty and fealty of the servant was absolute and could not be undone. He would do whatever Ralgha would ask him to do.

But he definitely did not like it.

* * *

True to his word, Wedge sent a couple of shuttles over to the _Ras Nik'hra_. The two identical craft were of the familiar triple-winged design, the lower two wings folding up when it was landing. It was a variant that had become very common in the time of the Galactic Civil War, and had been widely used by the Empire. Obviously it had proven effective, as it was still in common use today.

On one of the shuttles sat Leia Organa Solo. Though her status as a Jedi was clear, as evidenced by the lightsaber on her belt, she was there primarily as a diplomat and the commanding officer of the away team. Though she was not actively serving as a member of the _Dragon's Claw_ 's crew, Wedge nonetheless bestowed the honorary title upon her. A career politician who was also a Jedi, Leia had all the necessary skills in the field of diplomacy, which was exactly what this current situation called for.

Sitting next to her was her son, Jacen. He had volunteered to go on the mission, mainly for security reasons. Leia had made a comment about how he was planning to watch out for his mother, and he had rolled his eyes in response, although Leia still managed to catch a brief flash of red on his cheeks before he turned away. Nonetheless, she still felt touched.

Tahiri had opted to stay onboard the _Claw_ , stating that somebody needed to be available there in case things suddenly went downhill. Regardless, another Jedi had gone along on the mission and was now riding on the other shuttle. That Jedi was Valin Horn, son of two other heroes of the Rebellion; Corran and Mirax Horn.

Em-Teedee had also gone along with Leia and Jacen. Despite Ralgha's assurances that communication did not pose a problem, they decided to bring the droid along anyway. Leia had quoted the old axiom of 'better to have something and not need it, than to need it and not have it'.

Rounding out the boarding party was a complement of twelve fully armed GA soldiers on each shuttle, making twenty-four in total.

The shuttle carrying Leia and Jacen was the first one to dock on the _Ras Nik'hra_. Upon landing, the ramp extended, and four of the soldiers walked out first, followed by the Jedi and Em-Teedee. The remaining eight soldiers brought up the rear.

Though he was not familiar with the facial expressions of other species, particularly Humans, Ralgha figured that the subtle gestures on the faces of the guards were ones of distrust and suspicion, and maybe one of them was actually displaying outright hatred. Fortunately, being trained soldiers, they managed to maintain their decorum. The older female and younger male, whom he took to be the commanding officers on this mission, seemed to wear more diplomatic faces.

Judging from the way they held themselves, and the fact that they had those strange metal cylinders attached to their waists, Ralgha figured they might even be two of those mysterious warriors who commanded the ability to move things with their minds and battled with swords of light. He could not remember what they were called, although he knew it started with a 'J', but even amongst the Kilrathi, they were considered legends of a sort, and inspired awe in even the most highborn of nobles.

The Human female stepped forward and inclined her head slightly in a gesture of respect. "Greetings. Would you be Lord Ralgha nar Hhallas?"

"I am indeed."

"I am Leia Organa Solo, Jedi Knight and representative of the Galactic Alliance. I must admit that your presence here, as well as your intention to defect, has caused something of a stir on our end. I trust that things here on your vessel are under control? I mean no offence to you, Lord Ralgha, but I simply do not wish for our negotiations to be interrupted by any unpleasant circumstances."

Mentally filing away the word 'Jedi' for future reference, Ralgha responded. "I understand your concerns on the matter, Leia Organa Solo. I have managed to subdue the crew in the least damaging way that I could think of. However, I feel that it would be conducive to everybody involved if we were to arrange for their extraction and internment before we are to commence negotiations of any kind. Like you, I wish to avoid any unpleasant circumstances."

"Very well. Are there any particular details that we should be aware of?"

"I simply wish that they be granted the respect that is due any prisoner of war. Regretably, I am well aware of some of the… less than favourable treatments that many of your galactic denizens have suffered at the claws of my brethren, but I personally feel that is an insufficient excuse for any harsh treatment that my crew may potentially receive."

Leia managed to keep her facial expression neutral, but was privately amazed at how urbane and well-spoken this particular Kilrathi seemed to be; a far cry from the usual bloodlust and lack of self-control his species typically displayed in battle. "Very well then. I will see about doing that." With that, she turned around and began issuing orders to the dozen GA soldiers that had accompanied her on her shuttle. At the same time, the other vessel started its own landing procedure. Upon landing, its ramp extended and Valin Horn led twelve more soldiers on to the deck of the Kilrathi vessel.

At twenty-one, Valin was four years younger than Jacen, and had been Knighted only a few years earlier. Despite this, he still showed a great deal of promise, and there were many who felt that he would go far in his later years. Valin's father was Corran Horn, a famous Jedi who also had achieved a certain degree of fame as a member of the legendary Rogue Squadron. Corran and his wife, Mirax, were among the close circle of friends surrounding Jacen's parents, aunt and uncle. Not only that, but Mirax's father was Booster Terik, who operated the privately-owned Star Destroyer _Errant Venture_. After stealing it from the Empire, Booster had painted it red to mark it as his own, and was even known to rent out parts of its exterior for advertisements. Comprising of casinos and other leisure facilities, the vessel was a veritable mobile haven for those looking to blow off some steam.

In a nutshell, Valin Horn seemed to have quite a legacy to live up to. But to his credit, the young Corellian seemed to take it all in stride.

"Never thought we'd end up here, would we?" Jacen asked casually, having come over to the younger Jedi to strike up a conversation.

"Not like this," Valin responded. "I always thought we'd capture one of these things, and then spend weeks repairing the damage we did to it. Instead, we are handed one on a silver platter, in perfect condition. And by a Kilrathi who apparently wants to defect, no less."

"That's not so hard to understand, is it?" Jacen asked. "During the last war, we didn't expect any of the Yuuzhan Vong to defect to our side. And yet they did, in large numbers, particularly towards the end."

Valin nodded in agreement. "That definitely helped us end the war earlier than originally predicted," he commented.

"Still not early enough," Jacen murmured, mostly to himself. It had been a little over four years since his brother Anakin died, and yet the mental and emotional pains could still be felt. Every time they came up, Jacen still felt a sense of being cheated. If the war had been brought to a close just a few months earlier, then maybe Anakin would still be alive.

"Hey Jace," Valin said softly, placing a comforting hand on the shoulder of the older Jedi, "I didn't mean to bring up any painful memories. I didn't know Anakin as well as you did, but I still knew him as a great guy."

Jacen sighed and gave a faint smile. "It's alright, Valin," he said. "He was my brother and I will always miss him, but he is with the Force now, and his purpose lies with those Jedi who have passed on before him; Obi-wan, Yoda, my grandfather…" He forced his face back into an expression of one who was eager to get his job done. "Anyway, we've got a job to do, so let's get to it."

Following Ralgha, they were led to the armoury, where they prepared to begin the process of transferring the prisoners over to Alliance custody. Wedge Antilles had determined that the _Dragon's Claw_ was not the correct place to house them at the moment, but he had managed to secure a temporary deal with the authorities on Eriadu. Though the locals had been very sore over the fact that the Kilrathi had bombed their capital city and killed hundreds of thousands of their neighbours in the process, the Eriaduans had agreed to house the Kilrathi prisoners at a facility about 1,000 kms outside the capital, where every movement of theirs would be watched.

And nobody would have been surprised if, after what the Kilrathi had done to their capital, many of the local guards and wardens would have very itchy trigger fingers.

* * *

Inside the armoury-turned-brig, most of the Kilrathi trapped inside practically seethed with anger. They had willingly served their commander, Lord Ralgha, faithfully, and had followed his every order, hoping that he would lead them into battle, where they could spill the blood of many of their enemies, bringing glory and honour to their clan, and to the Empire altogether.

Instead, he had betrayed them! He had delivered them directly into the arms of their enemy. By his actions, they had all become _sa'guk_ against their will. And they had no idea how they would be treated, though to them, it would have been much preferable to die in battle than to face such a fate. More than one of them was contemplating suicide.

One who was not, however, was a warrior called Darjuuk. Though a noble, he was a member of the Sikhag clan, and that alone caused many of his brethren to treat him with contempt. Of the Eight Noble Clans of the Kilrathi, the Sikhag were considered the lowest and least noble of them, and it was rare for any of them to see combat, mainly being relegated to police work, or to act as liaisons between the great clans and the common folk; nothing that would be considered worthwhile tasks. They were also not considered warriors, either mentally or physically, as it was believed that they did not truly grasp how to fight.

They also had no enemies, and in Kilrathi culture, this was actually something of a bad thing. With the other clans, there was always tension and animosity between them, despite the fact that they still fought together against a common enemy. The Ki'ra, for instance, were not on good terms with the current ruling family, the Kiranka, mainly because they had been the rulers of the Empire before being ousted. And there was the long-standing rivalry between the Qarg and Ragitagha clans, which had been going on for so long that nobody could even remember how or when it started.

The Sikhag, however, had no enemies amongst the other Noble Clans. Why? Because the other Clans did not want the disgrace of lowering themselves to their level!

Darjuuk had struggled with such a stigma for his entire military career, attempting to prove himself and his _hrai_ that he was indeed equal to, if not better than, those of the other seven clans, that he could show everybody else that the Sikhag clan was a force to be reckoned with.

And now, his commander had willingly surrendered his vessel to their enemies?! All at once, it seemed as though Darjuuk's hopes and aspirations had come crashing down around him, and he could hear in his head not just all of the nobles from the other clans, but their lowly servants as well, jeering and mocking him and his _hrai_ , telling him how worthless he was, that he was the lowest of the low, that he had done nothing to bring honour to himself or his clan.

And at that moment, Darjuuk nar Sihkag made a decision. It was unlikely he would ever manage to turn this particular situation around on his own, but at least he could even the score a little bit. He decided that the most honourable thing that he could do was exact revenge, not just for himself, but for all of those on the _Ras Nik'hra_ 's crew, regardless of their clan, upon the one who betrayed them all.

He would kill the treasonous Ralgha nar Hhallas.

As he heard Ralgha on the other side of the door, announcing that he was being accompanied by numerous soldiers and warriors of the Galactic Alliance, who would take them into custody on the surface of Eriadu, Darjuuk discreetly extended his claws. In just a few moments, he would strike. He would dispatch the traitor and then attempt to take down as many of the enemy fighters as he could. His chances of survival were almost nonexistent, but he did not care. He simply wished to die in a way that was memorable, one that would be remembered by those who witnessed it, and thus add more credibility to the Sikhag…

* * *

"I have your word that my crew will not be harmed?" Ralgha asked Leia as a couple of GA soldiers worked on opening the door to the makeshift brig.

"I am afraid that I cannot say for other people," Leia replied, her answer being both diplomatic and honest. "However, as long as they behave, I see no reason to inflict any undue harm upon your crew, and I will ensure those under my command will remember that."

Ralgha gave a low thoughtful hum. "I believe that you are sincere, Leia Organa Solo."

"If you wish to use my proper title, then I believe that Jedi Organa Solo would be appropriate. But in private, feel free to call me Leia." Leia gave a smile.

Pondering for a second, Ralgha nodded. "Very well, Jedi Organa Solo. I will accede to your request. By the way," he leaned closer slightly, "I do not wish to say anything inappropriate, but I noticed that the taller of the two Human male Jedi actually seems to share some physical similarities with you. Would the two of you be related, by any chance?"

Leia gave an impressed smile. "Very perceptive of you, Lord Ralgha. That is my son, Jacen."

"I suspected as much. Do you have other children?"

"I also have a daughter, Jacen's twin. Her name is Jaina. And I had another son, Anakin. Unfortunately, he passed away a few years ago."

"He was not killed by the Kilrathi?" Ralgha practically dreaded the response, but Leia shook her head.

"No, he died in the last war, the one against the Yuuzhan Vong, just a few months before we won."

Ralgha heaved a sigh. "I am aware that my people know little about the rest of the galaxy, but from what I can tell, there has already been too much death and destruction. There is no need for us to contribute to it." His gaze dropped to the deck, as if he was feeling a heavy amount of guilt.

"Is that why you wish to defect?" Leia asked, keeping her tone soft.

"Among other reasons," was all the Kilrathi noble offered. Leia figured that now was not the moment to press the matter and decided to let it drop for the time being. She and Ralgha straightened themselves and watched as the door to the brig crept open.

The door was barely a metre open when a Kilrathi hurled himself against it from the inside, causing it to burst open, and the warrior practically flew through the air, his claws extended, and his fangs bared in a feral look. With a sound that could only be interpreted as a battle cry, the Kilrathi headed straight towards Ralgha, intending to rip him apart with his bare claws. Almost in slow motion, Leia and Jacen both reached for their lightsabers, and the Alliance soldiers started to bring their rifles to bear…

…just as a blue blade slashed across the abdomen of the Kilrathi, straight through numerous vital organs, including the heart. The warrior's battle cry suddenly changed into a death rattle, and his form fell to land harmlessly at Ralgha's feet. He was dead before he landed.

In the few seconds that followed, nobody dared to move. Not Ralgha, Leia, Jacen, the soldiers, or even the captive Kilrathi still in the brig. The only one who had any inclination to move was Valin Horn, still holding his active lightsaber, the glowing blue blade unaffected from having passed through Darjuuk nar Sikhag's now-lifeless form.

After a few moments, Valin turned to the rest of the prisoners and spoke to them in an even voice. "Unless you want to end up like your friend here, I strongly suggest that you do exactly what we tell you. Got it?"

Not versed in the language that Valin was speaking, most of the Kilrathi did not understand a word he was saying. However, hearing the tone in his voice, and looking at Darjuuk's corpse, translation was not necessary. The rest of the prisoners stood down.

As Valin deactivated his lightsaber, Ralgha walked up to him. "What is your name, young Jedi?"

Slightly surprised that the Kilrathi noble was addressing him directly, the young Corellian answered the question. "My name is Valin Horn, sir."

Drawing himself upright, Ralgha spoke. "Valin Horn, your actions have most likely saved my life. I will not forget this moment, and when the time comes, I will repay the debt."

Valin bowed. "I am humbled, but we Jedi do not usually do what we do in order to receive 'debts'."

"Nonetheless, I shall attempt to repay the favour any way that I can." Ralgha turned back to Leia. "But for now, I believe we have more pressing matters to attend to."

* * *

 **Glossary of Kilrathi terms used in this chapter:**

 ** _hrai_ \- clan**

* * *

 **The character of Darjuuk is one that I created specifically for this chapter. I wanted to spice things up a little, so I figured I might as well have one of the Kilrathi try to kill Ralgha, only to get killed in the process. Plus, it fits into a minor plot point that will appear later on.**

 **By the way, that stuff about the Sikhag clan? That's true. If you read up on the Kilrathi clans, those poor buggers really are considered the lowest of the low. Almost feel sorry for them, don't you?**


	8. Anoat I

**As many of you might remember, Anoat was the system briefly mentioned in _The Empire Strikes Back_ , which led to the _Millennium Falcon_ going to nearby Bespin and meeting Lando. I figured that since Jaina and her squadron fought at Bespin earlier, they might go to Anoat to await further orders. As for the unnamed moon I included in this chapter, I just made it up. There's plenty of dull rocks out there in space anyway.**

* * *

 **CHAPTER SEVEN**

 **x**

 **x**

 **GA Star Destroyer** _ **Admiral Ackbar**_

 **Anoat System**

"You can't blame yourself, you know," Zekk said.

"Who said I was?" Jaina responded as she cranked out yet another couple of bench presses. The amount of weight on the ends of the bar was more than most Human females her age and size was capable of lifting, but Jaina Solo was deceptively strong, even without any assistance from the Force.

After the successful strike on the gas mining facility and some downtime at Cloud City, Jaina and the rest of the squadron, or rather who was left, had returned to their flagship, the Star Destroyer _Admiral Ackbar_ , and continued their training. Right now, most of them were hitting the gym. Zekk was spotting for Jaina while she was bench-pressing, Rigel was doing push-ups, and Anja was having a little sparring session with Raynar. Alema was also there, wearing tight clothes and doing aerobic stretches. Being the exhibitionist that she was, she was also ensuring that virtually every male in the gym was watching her.

"Because I know you better than most people," Zekk replied, "and I certainly know you better than anyone else on this ship. After all that we have been through, with the Second Imperium, Diversity Alliance, Yuuzhan Vong, and now the Kilrathi, I know that you try your best not to let any defeats, and any deaths of fallen comrades get to you, but they still bug you in some small way."

"Thank you for your assessment, Professor," Jaina said sarcastically as she placed the weight bar back on the frame. "Where'd you get your PhD?" Here she sat back up.

Zekk gave a brief snort of laughter. Despite Jaina's sarcastic response, he was relieved that she still managed to do so with a smile on her face. "From the University of Putting Up With Jaina Solo For Most Of My Life," he countered, eliciting a giggle from her.

Jaina stood up and looked up at her best friend. Zekk usually kept his black hair long and in a ponytail. But a few days earlier, he had had a haircut, and now it was several inches shorter. In fact, it was only slightly longer than how Jaina's twin brother Jacen usually kept his hair. "Thanks for your support, but I'm fine." She reached up and patted him on the cheek. "Besides, I'd like to think that the Kilrathi are losing more people than we are."

"Yeah, but they're not exactly disheartened, are they?" Zekk reminded her. "After all, they seek death in combat, remember?"

"Well, then it's our duty to oblige them," Jaina said as she flashed her trademark lopsided Solo grin.

Zekk rolled his eyes in response. "Anything else you want to do here?" He gestured around the gym. "More weights? Sparring? Grappling? Sabre practice?"

Jaina looked at the chrono on her wrist. "I can't. I've got to wash up and then meet the new recruits in the hanger in about 40 minutes." She looked up at her friend. "I suppose you would like to tag along?"

Zekk simply shrugged his shoulders and gave a wry look that Jaina took for an affirmative. She turned towards the door, just in time to see Anja deliver a hard right to Raynar's face, knocking the young man to the floor. "Anja, you're supposed to be sparring!" Jaina called out. "That means no contact, remember?"

* * *

Forty minutes later, Jaina found herself on the hanger deck of the _Admiral Ackbar_ , flanked by Zekk and Lowbacca. Though Wookiees were naturally taller than Humans, Zekk had gone through a growth spurt late in life, putting him close to their height, making him something of a Human giant. By contrast, Jaina was practically dwarfed by her male companions. However, she held herself in a way that indicated she was someone not to be messed with; something that she learned from her mother, a career politician.

As if on cue, a shuttle bearing the markings of the Galactic Alliance rose into view, passed through the energy barrier and coasted into the hanger bay before touching down on the deck. A moment later, the front ramp dropped to the deck, and three figures disembarked.

The three individuals could not be more different from each other. One was a member of the Ithorian species, often called 'Hammerheads' due to the odd shape of their heads, and this pilot easily imposed over the other two due to his size.

Another was a female Cerean. Looking very similar to Humans, the main difference between the two races was that Cereans had larger heads; the lower half occupied by their face, and the upper half housing a slightly larger brain and an extra heart that supplied it with blood. Also, their race had a very unusual ratio between the genders, with only one in every twenty being born a male. This inevitably led to things like polygamy. However, the woman had a look on her face that was hard and cold, making Jaina think that she was someone who did not like being messed with. Or even being talked to, for that matter.

But what really amazed the three Jedi was that the third pilot was a Yuuzhan Vong! Although a number of the extragalactic invaders had opted to stay in the Galactic Alliance and train with their military forces for a time, to see one of them, especially as an X-wing pilot, was something of a shock. But there was something about this particular Yuuzhan Vong that rang a bell of familiarity with Jaina, though she could not quite put her finger on it.

The three pilots came up to the three Jedi, dropped their bags to the floor, and all snapped off salutes. The Jedi returned them, albeit more casually. Jaina was the one to get things rolling. "I'm Jedi Knight Jaina Solo. These are fellow Knights Zekk and Lowbacca." She indicated the two males behind her as she mentioned their names. "I assume you three are the new pilots assigned to my squadron, correct?"

"Correct," the Yuuzhan Vong male responded. "I would also like to let you know that I consider it an honour to be serving with you, after the assistance that your younger brother and I gave each other during the last war."

Jaina raised an eyebrow. "My younger brother? You mean Anakin?"

"Yes. I was most aggrieved to hear of his passing." The remorse in the alien's voice seemed genuine and his features drooped for a second.

Suddenly the answer came to Jaina like a light bulb being switched on. "You are Vua Rapuung, aren't you?!"

The Yuuzhan Vong warrior nodded his head. "That is correct. Your brother made me realise that my people had made a grievous mistake by attempting to conquer your galaxy, and was instrumental in bringing many of us over to your side. I believe it was what helped to end the war much earlier. I heard about his sacrifice several months before the final battle at Coruscant. The galaxy, the Jedi Order, and most importantly, your family have all lost much with his death."

Jaina's eyes dropped to the floor and she gave a slow nod. "We have indeed," she said softly.

Sensing Jaina's heartache, Vua chose to switch track. "After the war, I decided to stay with the Alliance and learn how to fight with their weapons and technology. I am proud to fly an X-wing for you and to fight this war against these Kilrathi creatures."

Zekk spoke up. "And it doesn't bother you that you have to use a droid on your fighter?"

Vua shook his head. "Only briefly. In fact, I've met some droids that have provided me with good company every now and then."

"Okay then," Jaina said. "Welcome to the squadron." She shifted to the other two. "I apologise if it seems that I am ignoring you, but we need to get you all settled in. So if you could follow us to the crew quarters, we can meet the rest of the squadron."

After meeting up with the rest of the group, the three new pilots got to tell their stories. Vua Rapuung's was already familiar. Naturally, they were somewhat wary of the fact that he was a Yuuzhan Vong, but this was overlooked in light of his openly social attitude, and the fact that he was more than willing to use mechanical devices usually considered by his species to be abominations. The fact that he was also a former acquaintance of Anakin Solo garnered him more respect. Even now, the youngest Solo child was considered something of a legend; something that Jaina was rather proud of.

The Ithorian was named Zom, but ironically, his nickname and call sign was 'Hammer', of all things. Originally he was called 'Hammerhead' by his fellow pilots for obvious reasons (Ithorian fighter pilots were something of a rarity), but he was known for hitting his targets hard, 'like a hammer'. The nickname stuck and he embraced it. He was tough, but also enjoyed a good laugh, as well as a good drink when off-duty.

The Cerean woman was noticeably different. Her name was Kari, and it seemed like she had hardly ever smiled in her life. When questioned about her past, she gave short and sharp answers that consisted of less than a dozen words, and usually included rebuttals and dismissals. It quickly became apparent that she did not desire any form of company from any members of the squad, and most of them actually wondered if her attitude would prove to be a liability to their squad. After all, trust was a key component in any efficient fighting unit.

Putting aside such concerns for the moment, Jaina made sure that her new squad members were settled in, but she could tell that they were eager for some action. The three new pilots were keen on testing their mettle against the more experienced ones, whereas the others were getting a bit bored with simply sitting around.

Fortunately, Jaina had just the perfect remedy for such a thing.

* * *

One of the outer planets in the Anoat system had a moon that could best be described as a rock hanging out in the middle of space. It was dull, grey, and had no distinguishing features apart from a few impact craters. Apparently, it did not even have a name, either. And yet, it was ideal for this current practice.

The _Admiral Ackbar_ hung in orbit over this unnamed floating rock, seeming to watch as two groups of X-wings gathered on either side of it. To one side was Red team, led by Jaina, and composed of Raynar, Alema, Sesha, Rigel and Vua Rapuung. On the other side was Blue team, led by Zekk, and consisting of Lowbacca, Anja, Danath, Kari and Hammer.

Each X-wing had their laser cannons adjusted to deliver a shot only a fraction of the power that it usually did, and the goal was to hit your opponents enough times that their shields would drop to a certain level. Once there, that ship would be 'destroyed', and the player was out of the game.

As a security measure, the Star Destroyer hung close in case any real threat was to show up. If that occurred, the two teams would fly back while fully powered fighters would fly out and deal with the problem. But the best projections indicated that such a thing was highly unlikely.

"This is Red Leader, we're all ready over here," Jaina reported.

"Blue Leader here, we're all set," Zekk said.

"Confirmed, leaders," the overseer on board the _Admiral Ackbar_ responded. "Commence exercise!"

At the order, both teams accelerated, aiming for the crest of the moon, expecting to see their 'enemies' come over the horizon. Sure enough, as soon as they were close enough, Jaina and Zekk could see each other's squadrons in the distance; little specks against the blackness.

"Red team, fire at will," Jaina ordered. Her squad opened up on Zekk's, their cannons sending out streams of red-orange laser fire, much weaker than usual.

"Blue team, evasive manoeuvres," Zekk commanded his squad, and they split up, each going in different directions. Almost instantly, the members of Jaina's group peeled off and began pursuing them.

Alema Rar was obviously not fast enough, as Anja was able to turn about and gain a lock on her. Opening fire, the young woman quickly brought the Twi'lek's shields down to the 'destroyed' level.

"You're out, Alema!" Anja crowed her little victory. Over the com, the Twi'lek voice could be heard muttering something that sounded annoyed before she turned around and headed back to the ship.

Focusing on the battle as best as she could, Jaina tried to see how her three new pilots were faring. As if on cue, she noticed Hammer firing upon and 'destroying' Rigel's X-wing. Her pleasure at seeing the Ithorian pilot's talent was mixed with frustration, as she had already lost two of the pilots, while the other team had lost none. Intent on evening up the score, Jaina picked out the nearest adversary, which was the Chiss male Danath, and locked on to him. Letting loose a flurry of weakened bolts, she brought his shields down until he 'died'.

"Got one!" Jaina cheered, then suddenly had to dodge to the side as she noticed one of the other newer pilots, the Cerean woman Kari, bearing down upon her. Jaina continued to turn her X-wing this way and that, and yet Kari continued to hound her relentlessly.

For a moment, Jaina wondered if she should just let her opponent win this round, but quickly decided not to. In real combat, nobody got second chances to come back to life, and besides, she was highly competitive person. For people like Jaina Solo, surrender was never an option.

Levelling her X-wing out, Jaina allowed Kari to come in behind her. As her opponent lined up her shot for the kill, Jaina pitched her craft into a backwards loop; one which bought her behind Kari. Opening fire, Jaina scored her second 'kill'. At the same time, her team suddenly gained the numerical advantage, as Vua took out Anja.

Jaina had to admit that she was impressed. The Yuuzhan Vong had been known for their intense hatred of anything mechanical or technological, and even though many had opted to give up these prejudices, it seemed like it would be a very long road. However, Vua seemed to have no problem in that area, and he handled his X-wing like a professional.

"Nice work there, Vua," Jaina congratulated.

"Much appreciated, Knight Solo," the Yuuzhan Vong replied politely as he zeroed in on Lowbacca's craft. The Wookiee had taken out Sesha and was now firing relentlessly upon Raynar. Mere seconds after dispatching him, he himself was taken out by Vua.

There were now only two X-wings on each team. Levelling out slightly, Jaina moved in to attack once again, with Vua following close behind her. Locking on to their target, the Ithorian pilot Hammer, both Jedi and Yuuzhan Vong opened up, 'killing' him. There was now just one target left.

"Come on out, Zekk, wherever you are," Jaina taunted into the com. She slowly, almost casually, reached out into the Force, hoping to feel out her best friend's location. However, she found nothing. This confused her, as Zekk was probably the individual that she could sense the easiest through the Force.

Sparing a quick glance at her radar screen, Jaina noticed a brief blip; one that was right behind her! She was about to issue orders to Vua that they take evasive manoeuvres when an X-wing seemed to appear right out of nowhere, strafing the two of them with blaster bolts! Jaina managed to break away in time, but Vua was not quick enough.

"It appears I am out of this game," the Yuuzhan Vong warrior said solemnly, though Jaina could tell from his tone that Zekk's tactics had both impressed and amused him. "Good luck, Knight Solo." With that, he angled his craft back toward the Star Destroyer.

"Looks like it's just you and me," Zekk chuckled. "Why don't we show these guys how it's done?"

"Sounds like a challenge," Jaina replied. "One that I simply cannot pass up." Her grin was evident in her tone.

* * *

"I have to admit, Knight Solo, I can understand why my people called you the Goddess," Vua Rapuung complimented Jaina as he pulled off his piloting gloves.

The young Jedi woman smiled as she started to undo her bootlaces. "Thanks, but in this case, it looks like the Goddess was taken down by a mere mortal." She turned her head to glare at Zekk, who simply shrugged and grinned in return.

Jaina and Zekk had certainly put on a good show for the rest of the squad. The two of them had hunted and pursued each other, twisting and turning their craft in ways and speeds that would have made many pilots envious, as well as several newer ones sick. In the end, it was Zekk who had emerged triumphant, managing to score enough hits on Jaina's X-wing to rate her as being 'destroyed', but not before she had brought his own shields down to critical levels. Upon returning, the rest of the squad had congratulated them on their skills, as well as having Zekk receive high-fives from the rest of Blue team for having scored a victory for them.

They were now in the locker room, changing out of their flight suits, and into the more comfortable garb worn by off-duty personnel.

"So how exactly does one become as skilled as you?" Rigel asked.

"You become a Jedi, that's how," Kari put in, her comment coming out more like a spitting remark. Her abrasive attitude had not improved, and many people suspected that being defeated in their mock battle had done very little to improve it. Even though she had been on the winning team, and had still high-fived Zekk, she had done so without enthusiasm.

"That seems kind of a harsh judgement," spoke up the Chiss female, Sesha. She and her partner Danath rarely spoke, but when they did, it was usually well thought-out and polite.

"I agree," Raynar added as he pulled off his shirt. "Just because we can use the Force doesn't mean that is what makes us good pilots. Besides, I have met plenty of people who are not Force-sensitive, and yet they are awesome pilots."

Kari simply huffed in response. "Whatever." With that, she stood up and stormed out of the locker room.

"That chick's going to be trouble," Anja commented as she pulled a t-shirt on.

"Give her time," Vua advised. "I'm sure you remember that her home planet was one of the first that was attacked by the Kilrathi."

The planet Cerea had long been isolated from the rest of the galaxy due to its location. In most cases, this had proven to be a benefit, as attacking it would have taken time and resources that would have been much better spent taking worlds that were more vital in terms of position and importance. Unfortunately, that was not the case in this war. When the Kilrathi had first attacked, Cerea had been right in their path, and they had descended upon it like a plague. Eventually, the invaders had been driven off, but not before hundreds of thousands of Cereans had been killed.

Sensing that the mood would benefit from a change in topic, Vua turned to Raynar. "Jedi Raynar, I have a question if you do not mind."

The young Human looked at the Yuuzhan Vong warrior. "Depends what it is."

"I was simply curious as to those markings on your arm." He indicated what he was referring to. In recent years, Raynar had developed a well-muscled physique. Not like a bodybuilder's, of course, but definitely toned nonetheless. On the bicep of his right arm were tattoos of two words, done in an unusual but elaborate text called Alderaanian Copperplate. The first read 'Bornan', and the one below said 'Lusa'.

"My tattoos?"

"Yes. The Yuuzhan Vong are famous for marking themselves, and I just wanted to know the significance of those words."

"They're names," Raynar replied. "Bornan was my father. He died nearly a decade ago, giving his life to save the galaxy from a deadly plague that would have wiped out the entire Human race."

The look on Vua's face was one of surprise bordering on shock. "Truly?" he asked.

"Truly," Jaina and Zekk said at the same time. They had been there at that particular situation, and they remembered the horrors firsthand.

"But who would want to use such a weapon?"

"The Diversity Alliance," Raynar explained. "They were a collection of alien radicals who hated the entire Human race and wanted to wipe us all out. My father caught on to their plan, and did everything he could to make sure they did not get a hold of this virus. In the end, he succeeded, but he paid the ultimate price."

Raynar's tone was sombre as he explained it, and it was enough to give Vua pause. The Yuuzhan Vong was all too aware of what his own people had done in the past, but even now, there were some things that shocked him.

"I… apologise for your loss. I did not wish to upset you. Regardless, I believe that your father died a hero. And I also believe that if such a weapon had been unleashed, the galaxy would have been devastated, and my people would have been able to sweep in virtually unopposed. If you ask me, we all owe your father a huge debt."

Raynar gave a small smile in return. "Thanks, Vua."

The Yuuzhan Vong warrior bowed his head slightly. "You are welcome, my friend. And pardon me for inquiring further, but would 'Lusa' also be a lost relation?"

"Uh no, Lusa was my… well, I guess you could call her my girlfriend," Raynar answered as he pulled a t-shirt over his head. "She, um… she died in the last war."

 _The war against your people_ , was the unsaid conclusion of that sentence, and Vua knew it. Tentatively, he asked, "How exactly?"

"Voxyn," was all the answer Raynar gave, and it was all that was required.

"Hmm," Vua hummed thoughtfully. "I never did like those disgusting creatures. The galaxy is far better off without them."

Raynar closed his locker. "Well, you know what? It doesn't matter. We've all lost someone, and it's our job to make sure that nobody loses anyone else." Here he grinned. "Except the Kilrathi, of course."

Zekk laughed and stepped inward. "Well, that's something we can all agree with!" The rest of the squad gave their own 'hear, hear' to that comment.

Rolling her eyes, Jaina finished changing, and closed her locker. "Well, I'm glad you guys have all found something to agree on. Now, I think it's high time we all had a drink. Zekk won, so he's buying!"

The rest of the squad cheered and headed for the door. The only person that was not so cheerful was Zekk. "Why do I have to buy?" he protested.

"Because you won, that's why!" Jaina retaliated.

"Well then, shouldn't the captain of the loser team pay for it?"

"That's a stupid rule."

"No, it's not! And if you had won, you'd still make me pay for it."

"No, I wouldn't have!"

"Yes, you would, and you know it! You don't follow anyone's rule except your own rules."

"I do not!"

"Do so!"

"Do not!"

"Do so!"

This continued until they got to the bar, and they finally decided to split the tab.

* * *

 **I was a huge fan of the _Young Jedi Knights_ series, and it got me through some tough times in my high school years. One of the reasons why I was not fond of the _New Jedi Order_ series (or anything after it) was the fact that it changed everything I loved about the YJK, such as the strong bonds between the characters. In this alternate timeline, they still went through many of the hassles of the Yuuzhan Vong invasion, but their bonds managed to remain strong. The banter between Jaina and Zekk in this chapter is a reflection of that.**

 **Speaking of Yuuzhan Vong, I don't know much about the Vua Rapuung character, but from what I read about him, he seemed to be against much of his leader's goals, so he struck me as the type to willingly work with the Jedi and the Alliance. Plus, I read another fanfic series where he joined the good guys so I decided to use him here.**

 **By the way, that stuff about Cerean physiology (the extra heart inside their giant heads)? That's true, apparently.**

 **And the text on Raynar's tattoos? The name comes from Copperplate Gothic. My mum and I both love that font; it just looks nice.**


	9. Eriadu IV

**CHAPTER EIGHT**

 ** **x****

 ** **x****

 **Kilrathi Fralthi-class cruiser** _ **Ras Nik'hra**_

 **In orbit over Eriadu**

To someone who was used to the kind of vessels utilised by the Galactic Alliance, the differences encountered on a Kilrathi vessel were quite marked. GA ships were clearly designed for war, there was little doubt about that, but even then, there was hardly a thing out of place; everything seemed to fit together. Even during the days of the Galactic Civil War, that seemed to be the norm. Whereas the Imperial ships, in particular the Star Destroyers, had been cold and militaristic, the Rebels had a certain sense of artistic flair to theirs. And yet through it all, ships on both sides of the line simply seemed to be put together just fine, and any instance where they were not, they were usually fixed quite quickly. Nowadays, vessels of the Galactic Alliance seemed to have a blending of Rebel and Imperial styles, but they still displayed the required functionality.

Kilrathi vessels, however, were another league entirely. Looking around, Leia had to wonder how such a ship even managed to continue functioning, much less fighting. In many places of the _Fralthi_ -class cruiser, wiring and ductworks were left exposed, and pillars and protrusions were located in areas that they were not normally found. Leia was tempted to ask Ralgha about the design of the ship, but she had a feeling that not even he would know much about it. From what she could tell, Kilrathi built everything, including their warships, on the basis of sheer basic functionality, and anything else took a very unimportant second place. For someone who had grown up on a highly artistic world such as Alderaan, the differences between the two seemed so far apart to Leia that they might as well not even be in the same galaxy.

Pushing such unimportant matters from her mind, Leia allowed Ralgha nar Hhallas to lead her to his conference room. She was somebody who was more than capable of defending herself from a being as fierce and imposing as the Kilrathi noble, but nonetheless was accompanied by Jacen, as well as two Alliance guards that had been assigned to her side.

Wedge Antilles had also come on over, leaving the _Dragon's Claw_ under Han's command. Though Wedge was more of a fighter, he still knew how to talk down an opponent when the need arose. Plus, as the commanding officer of the vessel that Ralgha had surrendered to, he was pretty much expected to be there.

Ralgha himself only had one individual by his side, and that was his retainer, Kirha. Though the younger Kilrathi's face clearly showed his discomfort at the entire situation, he nonetheless stood faithfully by his liege-lord, his clawed hands clasped behind his back. His demeanour suggested that he was somewhat jumpy, and it was only after Ralgha told him to relax that he did do. Privately, Leia felt a lot of sympathy for him.

Once in the conference room, the participants took their places. Ralgha sat on one side of the table, Wedge and Leia on the other, while Jacen stood guard near his mother, and the two Alliance soldiers took up position on either side of the door.

Entering what could be considered her 'politician mode', Leia was the one who started the proceedings. "Lord Ralgha," she began, "you will have to excuse us if we are still somewhat apprehensive, but we are still coming to grips with the fact that a member of your race has announced their intention to defect."

To his credit, Ralgha showed no sign of being offended by Leia's comment. "I perfectly understand, Jedi Organa Solo. If we had experienced anyone from your side attempting to defect over to ours, we would probably be in the same position. Though, given my race's belligerent nature, I cannot understand why one would be willing to do so, unless they intended to become a slave."

"I thought the same thing during the last war," Wedge admitted. "Honestly, what were those Peace Brigade idiots thinking?"

"Regardless of such things," Leia continued, "we would like to hear your side of the story. When you first approached us, you made mention of a rebellion on one of your worlds…" unable to remember the name, she left the sentence hanging.

"Ghorah Khar," Ralgha supplied.

"Ghorah Khar," Leia repeated, "thank you. Would you please elaborate on that?"

"Certainly," Ralgha answered. "Though I am afraid I cannot tell you too much, as I was not made privy to all of the details. The leaders of the rebel cell determined that it was best that way; if one of us was compromised, we could not divulge all of the information."

"Having been a part of a rebellion ourselves, we can completely understand that," said Wedge.

Nodding, Ralgha continued to explain. "There is a growing movement on several worlds within our Empire, Ghorah Khar simply being the most prominent, and therefore most vital. You see, throughout the history of my race, we have waged one war after another. The reasons mattered very little, if at all. All that matters to a Kilrathi is gaining honour and victory through conflict, and spilling the blood of our enemies. For countless centuries, that is all we did to each other, until the Utara came."

"The Utara?" echoed a confused Leia.

"The Utara were a benevolent and educated race. Highly advanced, but pacifistic in nature. They saw us, and sought to educate us. They gave us the ability to fly to the stars."

"So, you didn't develop space-faring technology yourselves?" Wedge asked.

Ralgha simply smiled. "Given our tendency for destruction as opposed to creation, do you honestly think the Kilrathi would have taken the time to do so?"

Wedge paused for only a couple of seconds before answering. "Uh, no, I have to admit that such a thing _is_ kind of hard to believe."

"Well, there you go, then," Ralgha replied. "Naturally, once we had broken free from the bonds of our homeworld Kilrah, we repaid the Utara in the only way we knew how."

"How exactly?" Leia asked, dreading the answer.

"By slaughtering every last one of them," Ralgha said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the universe. "After hundreds of years of killing each other, the Kilrathi finally had an enemy from the outside against which to test their mettle. The war, if you could truly call it that, lasted only a few years, but in the end, there was not a single Utara left alive.

"Over the centuries since then, we have spread throughout our own corner of this galaxy, in the area that you people refer to as the Unknown Regions, colonising one planet after another, and ruthlessly wiping out one species after another. That is all we have ever done. And then we happened to stumble across you."

"Us?" Leia asked.

"Yes, this great civilisation known as the Galactic Alliance. You had overthrown a totalitarian regime that spanned the entire galaxy, and then done battle with a race from beyond the Rim, who had shown themselves to be at least as bloodthirsty as we Kilrathi could be." Ralgha leaned back in his chair, a mysterious smile on his leonine face. "I must admit, that former Empire and these Yuuzhan Vong… they would have been rather interesting adversaries to fight. But instead, you managed to rise up and snatch victory from the jaws of defeat, then went on to unify the galaxy in a way that had never been done before.

"Well, for the Kilrathi, the Galactic Alliance was an adversary far too great to pass up."

"So you attacked us," Leia said, as a statement, not a question.

"So we attacked you," Ralgha confirmed. "And almost immediately, the folly was evident. For in the past, we simply attacked, conquered and destroyed our enemies. But they were isolated, small and insignificant, barely worth a mention. This war is different. We are not simply fighting an inferior foe in some uncharted corner of the galaxy. No, we are fighting virtually the _entire_ galaxy this time! In a way, we are overstretching our boundaries. In theory, we could have waited a few more decades or even centuries until we had amassed enough power to make a more concerted strike. But no! The Emperor, in all of his corrupt and vile glory wishes to make a name for himself as being the one who led the Kilrathi Empire into dominating the entire galaxy."

Pausing to allow himself to catch his breath, Ralgha dropped his eyes to the desk. "And yet through it all, I continued to serve our forces loyally, in the blind faith that we would prevail. That what we were doing was the 'right' thing." He raised his head to look at Leia and Wedge. "And then came the day when I lost my entire _hrai_."

"Uh, I'm sorry, your _hrai_?" Leia asked, unfamiliar with the word.

"My clan," Ralgha translated. "It happened last year. My people had attacked one of your worlds - Bakura, I believe it was called - and in retaliation, the Alliance attacked one of our planets. The battle was intense, and in the end, there was hardly anything left alive on the planet's surface." He looked at Leia and Wedge, his gaze making them feel as though it was piercing directly into their souls. "That planet was my homeworld, Hhallas."

The room dropped silent for a moment, and both Leia and Wedge contemplated what Ralgha had just said; the weight of the words seeming to push down on their shoulders. Even Jacen's mind was racing with the implications of what had just been laid out before them.

In the early days of the war, the Kilrathi had advanced throughout the Outer Rim, attacking and invading many systems. A great deal of these were uninhabited, but there were some that had people occupying them, and they were somewhat isolated from the rest of the galaxy. One of these planets had been Bakura.

Just one day after Leia and her comrades had destroyed the second Death Star at Endor, they had been called upon to assist Bakura repel an attack by an alien race called the Ssi-ruuk. They had even entered into a truce with Imperial forces there in order to defeat the invaders. Eventually the truce had fallen apart when the Imperials turned on them, but in the end, the Alliance had saved the planet. Decades later, the Bakuran military had even assisted New Republic forces during the Corellian Insurrection, a large part of it happened to be masterminded by Thracken Sal-Solo, the insidious cousin of Leia's own noble husband, Han.

Long story short, many in the Galactic Alliance felt that they owed the people of Bakura for all they had done for them in the past, and their apparent failure to protect them from the Kilrathi felt like they had let them down or betrayed them. Despite eventually pushing the Kilrathi away, the Bakurans still lost many people, and large parts of the planet were heavily damaged. As retaliation, an Alliance attack fleet, bolstered by ships and soldiers from the Bakuran Expeditionary Force, had set out for Kilrathi territory, where they had come across the planet of Hhallas, and practically razed the world. It was considered by many to be the first real victory for the Galactic Alliance in this current war.

"My entire clan was wiped out that day," Ralgha went on. "Not only that, but many of our servants and slaves paid the price in blood as well. By most forms of logic and reasoning, I should have sworn complete and utter vengeance against your Alliance and attempt to spill the blood of everyone within it. Instead, it opened my eyes, and I started to realise how corrupted my race had become, and how the root of that corruption lays within the halls of the Imperial Palace on Kilrah; on the stone throne that even now is being warmed by the decadent backside of the one who calls himself Emperor. If he is allowed to continue to wage this war, then it will lead only to even more pointless death and destruction - not just for the Kilrathi, but for all of your races, the Alliance, and even the entire galaxy itself. The only hope that the Kilrathi people have is if they learn to change their ways.

"And although it pained me greatly to do so, I knew that in order to help that change come about, I would first have to betray my own people."

Ralgha went silent for a minute, and everyone else in the room felt as if the weight that he felt over his decision was hanging about the room, making the very air feel heavy and press down on them all. Even Ralgha's own servant, Kirha, seemed to be affected by his liege-lord's words, as his eyes suddenly dropped down to the grey floor, and his shoulders appeared to droop slightly.

Leia was tempted to say something, but she knew that Ralgha was not quite finished yet, and so she remained silent, letting him continue.

"I had heard about several groups of rebels across different planets within the Empire, mainly in our outer territories. The most prolific of them were located on Ghorah Khar, and I figured that if anybody were to assist me in my goals, they would be the best choice. And so, I made my way there. It was quite a risk, but in the end, I managed to track the rebels down and integrate myself into their cell."

"How exactly did you do that?" Wedge asked. "I apologise if I am interrupting, it's just that my wife has worked in espionage and intelligence-gathering for most of her life, so naturally I am curious."

Ralgha smiled at this. "It was actually much easier than I thought it would be. As it turned out, a very close friend of mine was in league with the rebels, and it was she who put me in contact with them."

"She?" Wedge echoed.

"Lady Hassa. She is one of our most esteemed priestesses, and one of the most influential as well. We have been friends ever since we were both cubs back on Hhallas. I can only suspect that the attack on our homeworld must have had the same sort of impact on her as it did on me, though she has never confirmed it."

"So after Lady Hassa put you in contact with the rebels, how exactly did you go about undermining the Emperor's rule?" Leia asked.

"Regrettably, there was little we could do," Ralgha continued. "The Emperor's influence is still too strong, and although there are numerous rebel cells throughout the Empire, they are still too afraid of speaking out, lest they bring his wrath down upon them. You may be familiar with what the Kilrathi have done to their enemies or the inhabitants of the planets they have conquered, so you can only imagine what they would do to members of their own species who had betrayed the Empire." Here Wedge, Leia, and even Jacen all nodded. They had both read the reports and seen it all firsthand. The Kilrathi were certainly brutal; the only other race that came close in such terms had been the Yuuzhan Vong.

"And so, on Lady Hassa's orders, I travelled here with orders to surrender my ship and crew, and to announce my defection. My crew were naturally curious as to why I had suddenly ordered them to change course, but they went along with it. However, things would have gotten… unpleasant… when we arrived here and my true motives were made public, and so I conducted a little ruse to lure them into the armoury - after I had removed all of the weapons, of course - and detain them there. I can only imagine that right now they are wishing the wrath of Sivar to fall upon me."

"Sivar?" Leia asked. She had heard that word before, but still did not understand what it meant.

"Our deity," Ralgha explained. "The god of war, and the only one that the Kilrathi worship. In fact, my ship was meant to rendezvous with the rest of the fleet for a reason that has to do with our worship of Sivar, and that is one of the reasons as to why it is imperative that you believe me."

"I have a feeling that I am not going to like what I am about to hear," Wedge muttered.

"Your feelings serve you well," Ralgha told him, but there was no humour in his voice, only a dark sense of foreboding. He leaned forward slightly, fixing Leia and Wedge with an intense gaze as he explained. "Every year, we hold a… celebration, if you will, called the Sivar-Eshrad. It is a way in which the Kilrathi can show their appreciation for the war god in a way that only he and we can truly understand."

"With violence," Wedge stated.

"Exactly," Ralgha confirmed. "The Sivar-Eshrad is celebrated by every Kilrathi who is able to attend, and those who cannot still ensure that a representative of their _hrai_ is present anyway. It is preferably performed upon newly conquered territory, as it is believed that conflict hallows the site, makes it sacred. Understandably, this has often been a contributing factor into the large number of wars that we have fought. However, many see the ceremony as a civilising tool, ensuring that our desire to kill is directed outward against our enemies, instead of inward were it has the potential to start a civil war."

"I can almost see the logic behind that," Wedge murmured.

Ralgha gave a slight nod, as if he agreed with the Corellian, before continuing. "For the Sivar-Eshrad, a planet of our enemies is selected, and an extremely large force is hurled at it. Those Kilrathi who take part in it fight on the ground, using no weapon other than their claws." Here Ralgha held up one of his hands, the claws of his thumb and three fingers extended slightly, as if to prove a point. "The belief is that we fight that way to feel the 'true' essence of combat; of feeling our enemies die by our own claws. The 'purest' form of killing, if you will. Our enemies have their throats ripped out, and each death is considered a tribute to Sivar. Such a fight cannot be done from ships; it must be face-to-face, and with no artificial weapons, unless our enemies use them as well."

The mood in room had become one of stunned silence. Leia and Wedge were two individuals who had believed they had seen the very worst that the galaxy had to offer, and yet the information they had just been given shocked them both to their cores.

Seeing that the other two had been shocked into silence, it was Jacen, speaking for the first time in this meeting, who asked the next question. "So, how long does all of this killing go on for?"

The Kilrathi noble shifted his gaze to look at the young Jedi. "Until every last inhabitant of that planet is dead."

The mood in the room had already been one of shock, but after Ralgha had uttered that one simple sentence, that mood had taken on a whole new level; one that seemed to much more oppressive and sinister. The conference room had gone so deathly quiet that it would have indeed been possible to hear a pin drop.

It was Ralgha who finally broke that oppressive silence. "So now you understand how imperative it is that you accept my help. Not only can I put you in contact with the rebels, and thus enable them to put a much more effective front against the Emperor and his followers, but we may very well be able to do what no one has been able to do in the history of the Kilrathi Empire; we can put a stop to the Sivar-Eshrad." His speech done, Ralgha leaned back in his chair in a somewhat casual manner.

Leia, Wedge and Jacen all processed the information they had just been given. Over the time that they had been engaged in conflict against the Kilrathi, they had experienced the brutality that the feline aggressors had to offer. Much of it had been firsthand. Jacen, in particular, still had memories of what they had done to the citizens of Eriadu. And yet they had just been informed that the occupants of one particular planet were about to experience that brutality on a whole new scale; one that would shock even the hardiest of individuals. Their former adversaries, the Yuuzhan Vong, had been brutal, but even they had seemed reluctant to do something such as this.

Leia finally managed to recover her voice. "Do you know the name of the world on which this… Sivar-Eshrad, is to take place?"

Ralgha nodded. "A planet called Naboo."

* * *

 **This chapter includes several things from Kilrathi history and culture. According to _Wing Commander_ canon, that story with the Utara uplifting the Kilrathi, only to be wiped out in return, is what actually happened. I simply transplanted that into the _Star Wars_ galaxy and set it in the Unknown Regions so that the rest of the galaxy would be completely unaware of it happening.**

 **Same thing with the Sivar-Eshrad, so bad times are coming for the people of Naboo!**


	10. Corellia I

**CHAPTER NINE**

 **x**

 **x**

 **Corellian system, Core Worlds**

The Corellian system was always considered something of an anomaly in several different ways. There were millions of systems around the galaxy, but not all of them possessed planets that supported life, or were even capable of supporting life. Many of those systems usually contained only one or two planets where life had the ability to flourish. These were more often than not were located in what was known simply as the 'life zone'; an orbit around its parent star that was just the right distance away from it. Too close, and the planet would have been too hot. Too far away, and it would have been too cold. Given these criteria, it was understandable that it was rare for any system to have more than one or two planets where life could thrive.

The Corellian system, on the other hand, had _five_ planets where life existed! And all of them managed to drift in an orbit around the star Corell that gave an atmosphere that was adequately comfortable to its inhabitants. They were often referred to as the Five Worlds, or the Five Brothers.

Closest to Corell was the planet that gave its name to the whole system: Corellia. Home to roughly three billion Humans, and consisted of oceans, farmland, and metropolitan areas like its capital city of Coronet. Corellians were notorious around the galaxy as being laid-back, adventurous, always preffering to do things their own way, and seemed to be natural born pilots; which gave rise to the saying 'Corellians have rocket fuel for blood'. Corellia had produced some well-known individuals on both sides of the Galactic Civil War, including Rebel heroes like Han Solo and Wedge Antilles, and famous Imperial figures such as Soontir Fel and Gilad Pellaeon.

Second from the star was Drall. Possessing meadows, rivers and forests, the planet was also home to a species of the same name. Drall were short, furry creatures that were descended from burrowing mammals, and despite their diminuitive manner, they carried themselves with poise and dignity. They seldom left their homeworld, though it was not uncommon to see them elsewhere, particularly mining camps around the galaxy.

The fourth orbit was occupied by Selonia, a world covered mostly by water, with land that was broken into islands, bays and peninsulas. The native Selonians stood over two metres tall, and were sleek, fur-covered carnivores that were actually descended from aquatic mammals. Their society was organised into 'dens', and their world saw a large amount of interstellar traffic. Despite this, many in the galaxy, and even many on the system's other planets, knew very little about the Selonians.

However, it was what occupied the third orbit in the Corellian system that intrigued most people. Two near-identical planets shared this orbit. They were called Talus and Tralus, often referred to as the Double Worlds. They shared the same size, gravity, and terrain of oceans and plains, and occupied the same orbit; orbiting around each other as they circled Corell. They were the least populated worlds in the system, and were also considered by many to be the least important of the Five Worlds. However, it was what occupied the space between the Double Worlds that piqued most peoples' interest.

Centrepoint Station had the appearance of a long tube with a massive circular bulge in the middle. Essentially, it looked almost like a skewer with a round fruit in the middle of it. The facility was over three hundred kilometres in length, and rotated slowly on its axis, providing a centrifugal force that created an artificial gravity for the interior of the station, which was home to many people. But what really mystified people was the fact that nobody had any idea how the station came to be, or who had built it in the first place. It was a mystery that continued to confuse people across the galaxy to this day. All that was known was that Centrepoint Station was unbelievably ancient; its age being placed at anything between one hundred thousand years up to a million.

Studies of the gleaming metal station had shown that it possessed abilities that allowed it to move entire planets! And it was believed that it had been the station itself that had been used by some unknown ancient civilisation to create the Corellian system; taking five habitable planets and placing them in to orbit around Corell before seeding them with life.

Unfortunately, that was also what made Centrepoint Station to be extremely dangerous. Using a mechanisim called the Starbuster, a massive blast could be launched through hyperspace to anywhere in the galaxy, completely destroying whatever it struck. The two Death Stars constructed and used by the Empire had possessed the ability to destroy whole planets, but that was nothing compared to Centrepoint, which was able to destroy entire star systems!

The galaxy had witnessed this horrific power firsthand fourteen years after the Battle of Endor, in an event that would come to be known as the Corellian Insurrection. A renegade group calling itself the Sacorrian Triad had risen up. Led by a Human, a Drall, and a Selonian, and based on Sacorria, a planet at the edge of Corellian territory, they had used the station and its fearsome weaponry to destroy several stars in an attempt to bully the New Republic into recognising an independent Corellian empire. In the end, the New Republic had been victorious, and Anakin Solo, who had only been seven years old at the time, had shut down Centrepoint Station harmlessly.

The station had now found its abilities biometrically tied to the young Solo, and years later, his father's sadistic cousin, Thracken, would use him to activate the station once again. This time, it had been used during the Yuuzhan Vong War. The extragalactic invaders had launched an attack against the planet of Fondor, and Thracken had sent a shot towards them through hyperspace. It had succeeded, but had also destroyed much of the Hapan fleet that were battling the Yuuzhan Vong.

When Anakin had died later in that war, the ability to use Centrepoint Station had died with him, and many had felt that the ancient facility had now become harmless; a threat that was not worth worrying about any longer.

But there were those who intended to show how wrong such thoughts were...

* * *

For all intents and purposes, Coronet was considered by many to be a fine example of metropolitan living. Though not as big as the cities on Coruscant, which encompassed the surface of the entire planet, nor were its tallest buildings as big theirs, Coronet still stood tall and proud. The capital of the planet Corellia, and many believed it to be the capital of the whole system.

Given the current state of things, it was understandable that many of Coronet's citizens were thinking about the current conflict with the invading Kilrathi race. Even now, politicians and diplomats would argue and discuss, from behind closed doors and in the halls of government buildings, how the situation would best be dealt with. Whether the Galactic Alliance was doing a good enough job, or if the Corellians themselves were committing too little, too much, or just the right amount to the fight. Even on the streets, people were talking about the war.

And there was one figure in particular that was counting on this to be happening. Everybody else would be distracted, and that would allow him to make his move.

Standing in front of an assortment of screens, the individual scanned the reports sent in to him from his agents in the field. He appraised the situation and made his decision. He opened his private communication to his closest lieutenants and gave one simple order.

"Execute the operation."

* * *

It all happened at once, just as the leader had planned it. For over a year now, he had been inserting his agents into different areas of power all across the Five Worlds; the government, military, law enforcement, and so on. Each one had been dedicated to him and his ideals, and everything that he stood for. Each one had possessed an intense dislike of the Galactic Alliance and their Jedi enforcers, and would love to see the Corellian system achieve the level of greatness that they believed it deserved. They knew that their enemies had been distracted in their latest war, and that made it the opportune moment to strike.

All around the system, certain high-ranking officials began collapsing in the streets, having just received a shot or a blade to the most vulnerable parts of their anatomy. Some even found themselves being garrotted from behind with a cord of some kind, or had their necks broken. Businessmen, politicians, military officers, all found themselves under attack. If their goals were different to that of this sudden group of usurpers, then they found themselves under attack. The body count gradually started to rise.

The citizens of the planets, who had been neither the targets nor the perpetrators, found themselves shocked out of their daily lives, and most chose to run for cover. Firefights and skirmishes of all kind appeared to be breaking everywhere, between the local law enforcement and the rebels. It was devastating on all of the worlds, but by far the worst was Corellia. Given its perceived importance, it seemed natural that the usurpers had chosen to focus their efforts there.

In the main offices of the government building located in the centre of Coronet, there was one individual in particular who looked over the current system with a growing sense of unease and fear. Aidel Saxan was a middle-aged woman who had been elected to office on Corellia shortly after the Yuuzhan Vong had been defeated. Despite the fact that her father had actually been from Coruscant, she considered herself to be decidedly Corellian, and had set about making her home system to be a prime example of civilisation throughout the galaxy, and she had managed to keep that promise.

Unfortunately, it seemed that somebody was doing everything they could to oust her from office, violently, if they could.

Aidel stood at the largest window of her office, which overlooked the streets of Coronet. Her radios chattered incessantly with the frantic voices of loyal forces coming under fire from this mysterious new adversary, and their valiant attempts to suppress them. Out the window, she could see blaster fire being exchanged as the rebels advanced closer and closer to her building, with loyalists falling one after another.

Aidel Saxan's hope was fading fast, and she knew that she was running out of time.

* * *

In less than two hours, it was all over. The rebels had seized control of large portions of Corellia and the other four planets, and the main government and military centres were in their hands. Perhaps most symbolically, they now held the main government building in the middle of Coronet. The rooms and hallways, like the streets outside, were littered with bodies. Some had been rebels, but most of them had been guards or workers who supported Aidel Saxan and the lawful ruling government of the Five Worlds.

And now Aidel found herself to be in the custody of these usurpers. Most of them were wearing masks of some kind, and those that had their faces exposed were people that she had never seen before. From what she could tell, they were all Human though. They wore variants of some kind of uniform, suggesting that they were paramilitary in nature. Some kind of ultra-nationalist group, perhaps? The one thing that caught Aidel's attention most was what they all had around their upper arms; black armbands that had the letters 'FWLF' stencilled in orange on them. The initials rang a bell of some kind of familiarity in Aidel's head, but she could not quite recall what it was.

Aidel felt tempted to ask one of her new captors exactly what the situation was, but she felt that it would be best simply to keep silent at the moment. Presently, she was on her knees in her office; and a small part of her actually felt grateful that the room was carpeted. There were currently six of the rebels in the large room as well. Two were standing guard on either side of her, two more were positioned on either side of the main door, and the other two were holding hostage a small group of people that were members of her personal staff. One only had to look at any one of the rebel guards to tell that their trigger fingers were _very_ itchy. In fact, a couple of workers had gotten into their heads that they could overpower their captors and make a run for it. Tragically, they had not gotten a few metres before being cut down by blaster fire.

Whoever these 'FWLF' people were, they were not afraid to spill some blood in order to achieve their goals. In fact, many of them seemed a little too eager to do so.

Aidel knew what was coming next; she had seen or read about it in various forms of media, both real and fiction. A leader was overthrown by a group of rebels or insurgents, then they were held hostage in their own office, usually on their knees, then the doors would open and the leader of the dissidents would waltz right in like they were a gift from the universe itself, they would state their reasons for doing what they were doing, and how they are willing to pay the price and so on, and then they would usually kill the ousted leader.

Aidel knew that all this was going to happen, and although she felt scared, she also felt an odd sense of determination. She had done much for Corellia, and she was not afraid to give her own life for it. She would show these insurgents that she would not be bullied into showing fear, even in the face of certain death.

Almost on cue, the doors to the main office swung open, and three individuals walked in. Two of them were more of the paramilitary rebels sporting the 'FWLF' armbands, but it was the person in the middle that drew all the attention. From the other rebels, it was one of respect; almost reverance, in fact. From the hostages, it was one of fear mixed in with disbelief.

As for Aidel Saxan herself, she did her best to maintain a neutral composure. But this did little to change the fact that she herself was surprised at the identity of the person who walked into the room as if he were the hero of this little crusade, though to those who knew him or knew of him, he exuded pure malevolence and evil. This was offset by the fact that his face was disturbingly similar to one of Corellia's greatest heroes.

"Aidel Saxan," the man said in a false pleasant tone, "it is a pleasure to meet you." He gave a sinister smile that only just managed to peek past his white beard and moustache.

"The pleasure is _not_ mutual," Aidel replied, "Thracken Sal-Solo." She said his name as a sneer.

The man who stood before Aidel shared a similar appearance to his more famous, not to mention noble, cousin Han Solo. There were differences, though. Han had dark hair that only just started to show hints of grey in recent years, though this usually made him look more distinguished. However, he was not known to grow a beard or moustache. Thracken, on the other hand, did sport facial hair, but all of it, as well as that on his head, was white.

But even if the two cousins had looked identical, one with a trained eye would still be able to tell them apart simply by looking into their eyes and reading their facial expressions. Han was known for having a positive attitude that complimented the lopsided grin usually stuck to his face. But Thracken rarely smiled, and his usually had a cold, calculating and sinister look in his eyes. Their personalities were markedly different as well. Han had worked for much of his life to make things easier for the galaxy in general, and always fought on the side of the right and just. Thracken, however, was an individual who served only one person's needs, and that was himself. His main goals primarily consisted of bringing his beloved Corellian system into a period of greatness where it relied on nobody from the outside. Unfortunately, his views included things that were common under Palpatine's Empire; particularly a bigoted attitiude towards non-Humans.

Simply put, the two cousins were poles apart.

"My, aren't we rather feisty today?" Thracken asked, his voice dripping with condescension. "I was kind of hoping that you and I might be able to sit down and hash out our differences like civilised people."

Aidel simply scoffed. "You wouldn't know what 'civilised' was even if somebody tattooed its meaning on your ass. I'd be willing to bet that there are Hutts in this galaxy who are more civilised than you. If you really wanted to do things in a civilised manner, then why did you start an uprising which has already killed hundreds of people in just one day?"

The smile suddenly disappeared from Thracken's face. "Because change is never free," he practically snapped. "In order for change to occur, there has to be a price. If one is not willing to give their own life and the lives of others for their cause, then they are not truly dedicated to it!"

Aidel gave a brief sarcastic laugh. "That's good logic for a martyr. Or a murderer."

"Palpatine understood such logic."

"Palpatine was nothing but a self-serving, power-hungry madman who was willing to sacrifice millions of lives for his own benefit. You're not much better, Thracken. If anything, you're just a Palpatine wannabe."

Thracken glared at Aidel, his cheek starting to twitch, and his eyes beginning to blaze with a fury that he was only just barely able to contain. Aidel permitted herself a tiny, barely perceptible smile; a sign that she had gotten to him.

After almost a minute, Thracken seemed to calm down. Taking a breath, he started to pace as he continued talking. "The things that I do, I do them for the good of all of the people of the Five Worlds. For too long, we have been under the oppression of governments who serve only themselves. The old Republic, the New Republic, the Galactic Alliance; they have all sought to use us, to bleed us dry, and all for their own goals. I simply aim to achieve independence for the Corellian system."

"I can't help but notice that you left the Empire out of that little spiel of yours," Aidel pointed out. "Did you forget that they were worse than all of the others combined?"

Thracken stopped pacing. "For all of its faults, the Empire at least understood how the galaxy worked," he said. "Just look at what is happening now! The Galactic Alliance, in its endless quest to consolidate its power, have started yet another war against these Kilrathi animals! Just like the New Republic started a war against the Yuuzhan Vong!"

"Everyone knows it was the Kilrathi who attacked first!" Aidel snapped. "They started this war, not the Alliance! The Yuuzhan Vong did the same thing. And besides, it's well known that you collaborated with the Yuuzhan Vong and their Peace Brigade allies. Unlike you Thracken, my hands are clean. And now, in your pathetic little attempt to get back the power that you so desperately crave, you and your little group of terrorists have started this little coup right in the middle of the war when the GA could use our help, or the Kilrathi could suddenly attack us."

"Ah, but that's the thing," Thracken said, his voice suddenly shifting to a much calmer tone, "both of those sides are engaged in their little war. You see, while they are busy blowing the hell out of each other and gradually becoming weaker, my little group of patriots – the Five Worlds Liberation Front – will be securing the Corellian system, making it stronger than it ever was before. And so, when the time comes when an invading force chooses to attack us, we will have more than enough resources to deal with them." He leaned down and brought his face closer to that of the deposed leader. "Eventually, all of the other capital worlds – Coruscant, Bastion, Hapes, even Kilrah – will be devastated. But Corellia will stand tall, just like the crown jewel that it was meant to be. And if I'm not mistaken, that is very close at to what 'coronet' means. Looks like the city founders picked out an appropriate name, didn't they?"

Aidel huffed. "Glad to see that someone as despicable as you still has the time to build up his vocabulary." At this point, she knew that she was going to die, and so she no longer cared what she said.

Thracken stood up straight again. "Today, we are called rebels and terrorists. But give it enough time, and eventually, we will be known as heroes. As patriots! The Five Worlds Liberation Front will go down in history as the force that truly brought freedom to the Corellian system, and liberated it from a corrupt and oppressive regime. Regrettably, I am unsure as to how you will be remembered, but all those who died today, and who will continue to die in our struggle, they gave their lives in service to a greater cause, and they will be remembered as martyrs. Perhaps that is how you will be remembered." He pulled a blaster pistol out of his holster and aimed it at Aidel Saxan's head. "I'm sure you understand."

Aidel was about to tell him off one last time, but before she could even open her mouth, Thracken Sal-Solo pulled the trigger.

* * *

 **This might seem like it is breaking away from the main plot of the war against the Kilrathi, but it will all tie in together eventually.**

 **I must confess that I was not a fan of the _Legacy of the Force_ series, but in keeping with the Legends continuity, I used Aidel Saxan, who appeared, and subsequently died, in the first book. The dates might not match up exactly, but this is technically an alternate reality, so let's not nit-pick too much, ok?**

 ** **By the way, Thracken is just one of those villains with no redeeming features, isn't he? I mean, you can't _not_ hate the guy!****


	11. Eriadu V

**CHAPTER TEN**

 **x**

 **x**

 **Galactic Alliance Star Destroyer** _ **Admiral Ackbar**_

 **In orbit above Eriadu**

One by one, the X-wings of Jaina Solo's squadron disgorged from the hanger of the _Admiral Ackbar_ , angling their trajectory away from the giant triangular vessel.

"Alright squad, this is Leader," Jaina declared over the com. "Everybody manage to launch okay?" A series of eleven simple clicks over the radio indicated that everyone was just fine. "Alright then. As you know, we're simply flying to our new capital ship, but keep an eye out for any enemy patrols. We still don't know a great deal about the Kilrathi, so for all we know, they might decide to make a play for this system again. Just remember, we have apparently managed to capture an enemy vessel, so don't go jumping the gun, okay?"

"We get it, Leader," came the sarcastic response of the Cerean woman, Kari. "You don't need to treat us like infants."

"You watch your mouth there, Kari," Anja Gallandro warned. This was punctuated by a brief but sharp growl as Lowbacca vocalised his agreement.

"Enough!" Jaina ordered. "I won't have my squad blowing each other out of the sky. Let's just get to the _Dragon's Claw_ and get settled in to our new digs." With that, she shut off the com, so as not to hear any more squabbling from her crew.

 _It's like being a kindergarten teacher, isn't it?_ Zekk's voice floated into her mind over the Force. Jaina simply sighed and sent back a tacit agreement. She had heard stories of her parents and their friends assuming control of squadrons in space or on the ground, but they had not exactly emphasised any of the negative aspects that she was going through now. Most of her squad seemed to respect her, but every now and then, there was one that stirred things up.

Pushing these thoughts out of her head, she flicked the com back on and broadcast to the other Star Destroyer, which was gradually growing larger in her front viewport. " _Dragon's Claw_ , this is Jedi Knight Jaina Solo, requesting permission for my squad to dock." After that she sat back, and waited for the response.

"Attention Jedi Solo, this is _Dragon's Claw_ ," came the response a few seconds later. "I'm sorry, but you do not have permission to dock. Over."

Jaina's eyebrows shot up in surprise, and she keyed the com back on. "What's the deal, _Dragon's Claw_?" she demanded, dropping any formality that she originally had. "We received orders to rendesvous with you in this system and dock for a special mission. Check with General Antilles if you need to be reminded." She keyed off again, and sat back with a huff.

Her response came back less than two seconds later. "Jedi Solo, you were indeed requested to meet up with us here. However, you were not meant to dock onboard our ship. Your orders were to transfer over to the _Ras Nik'hra_."

"The _Ras Nik'hra_?" Jaina echoed. "That sounds like a Kilrathi name."

"Correct, that is the name of the Kilrathi Fralthi-class cruiser that is presently docked off our port side. Your orders are to dock there and wait to receive orders from General Antilles." The voice of the operator displayed no sense of smugness or anything; he seemed to be simply stating the truth.

Sighing, she responded. "Thank you, _Dragon's Claw_. We are on our way. Jedi Solo, out."

Switching her frequency back to her squadrons', Jaina relayed their orders. "Okay, it looks like were not docking on the Star Destroyer, people. We're landing on the Kilrathi cruiser."

"Are they serious?" Raynar exclaimed. His comment was punctuated by similar cries of disbelief from some of the other pilots.

"Look, I'm just following their orders, okay?" Jaina said, raising her voice a little, just so she could head off whatever objections they might have. "Let's just land on the damn thing and then see what happens." She heard her pilots grudgingly agree, and she shut off the com one last time. Then she absently rubbed the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger, as if that would ease the stress that was already starting to creep up on her.

 _Isn't this the part where someone says 'I have a bad feeling about this'?_ Zekk's mental question flitted into her head.

 _Usually, yeah_ , Jaina replied. _Let's just hope it's completely unfounded this time._

Fortunately, in this instance, those fears _were_ completely unfounded, for all twelve of the pilots landed their X-wings without a hitch.

Taking off her flight helmet and gloves, Jaina shook out her shoulder length brown hair, stood up in her seat, and then climbed down from the cockpit. Once she had her feet on the ground, she looked around at her surroundings.

Like her father and uncle, Jaina possessed a natural aptitude for flying, and as a result, finding herself in the hangers of bases and capital ships were by no means new to her. She had spent a lot of time in them during the Yuuzhan Vong War, but very rarely had she ever had the opportunity to set foot in an enemy one, and the differences between them were noticeable.

Hangers on vessels like the _Admiral Ackbar_ definitely felt like hangers, but even in those ones, there was a certain semblance of order. Here on the _Ras Nik'hra_ , there was very little order at all. The Dralthi fighters, Krant bombers, and even a few of a design that Jaina recognised as being called Salthi light fighters, were positioned in a way that made some of them relatively easy to get into and launch, but virtually every other was blocked in. Added to that was tons of crates and boxes stacked everywhere, surfaces that looked like that had never been cleaned, and power systems that looked like they had been jury-rigged, and were probably expected to fail at any given moment.

The rest of Jaina's squadron gathered near her, and they too were appraising the condition of the hanger.

"Man, what a dump!" said Rigel.

"I'm surprised this thing can hold together, must less fight," Hammer put in.

"How exactly did we manage to get a hold of this thing again?" Alema asked.

Jaina managed to tune out the chattering of the rest of her squad, and she noticed a single figure making its way towards them. Upon meeting her eyes, the person smiled, and Jaina felt a grin forming on her face as well. After all, there was no way that she could mistake the identity of her twin brother.

Jacen Solo came up to them, and his arms immediately went around his sister, squeezing her tightly. "Hey sis, I've missed you lately," he said.

Jaina gave a chuckle as she returned the hug. "I've missed you too, bro." Their current duties had taken them to different parts of the galaxy, but even such distances were little to temper the strong bond they had between them. Being twins, Jaina and Jacen were as close as a pair of siblings could be. After they had lost their younger brother Anakin, they had made a promise that they would never give up on each other, and that they would always find the time for each other, and for their family.

After letting go of his twin, Jacen also exchanged warm greetings with Zekk, Lowbacca, Raynar and Anja. The rest of the squad were unknown to him, so they stood back. Alema, being the kind of flirt that she was, also tried to 'welcome' Jacen, but a deathly glare from Jaina was more than enough to shoot that plan down.

Once the greetings were all out of the way, Jacen addressed the group. "Now, I understand that you must have a lot of questions right now. After all, it's not every day that you get an enemy vessel handed to you on a silver platter."

"Not by a long shot," Zekk agreed. "How exactly did you get a hold of this ship? It may be a dump, but I'm not seeing any dings, dents or scratches on it. In fact, I see no damage of any kind!"

"I'll explain on the way," Jacen responded. "If it's alright with you, General Antilles has requested that your squadron settle in, while you are informed of the situation directly." He directed this comment at his sister.

"They actually expect us to sleep here?" Jaina asked. "We don't even know how the Kilrathi sleep, and they want us to sleep in their beds? How do we know I won't get fleas?!"

Jacen managed to suppress a chuckle before answering. "Uh no, we have actually managed to bring some of our bunks over here. Just follow the signs and you will get there. I assure you, everything had been set up for your comfort."

After considering it for a few seconds, Jaina nodded. "Okay then." She turned to Zekk and Lowbacca. "Can you two take care of the rest of the squad for me?"

The two males immediately nodded. "No problem," said Zekk, and Lowie grunted his own affirmative. Jaina handed the Wookiee her own pack and they parted ways.

While the rest of the squadron followed the signs to the makeshift barracks, the Solo twins headed in a direction that Jaina figured led to the bridge. Her impressions of the hanger had given her a vague idea as to what she could expect from the rest of the ship's design and architecture, and it did not fail in this regard. It was as if the designer had not completely thought it through before construction had started.

"So how exactly did you capture this ship?" Jaina asked her brother.

"We didn't," Jacen replied simply. "It was given to us as a token of sincerity by a Kilrathi noble who defected to our side."

"A Kilrathi defector?" Jaina was confused. From her experiences with the Kilrathi, it seemed highly unlikely that any of them would even consider defecting.

"Hey, during the last war, we didn't expect any Yuuzhan Vong to defect," Jacen pointed out.

"True," Jaina admitted. "In fact, one of the new pilots in my squadron is a Yuuzhan Vong."

"I never thought I would live to see the day when one of those guys would willingly use mechanical devices, let along fly an X-wing," Jacen said as he shook his head.

"Me neither," Jaina admitted. "And this guy says that he knew Anakin."

This brought Jacen up short. "Seriously? What's his name?"

"Vua Rapuung."

"Vua Rapuung…" Jacen murmered the name softly, as if it would help him recall the fleeting memory that he was searching for. "I think I do remember him. Apparently, he helped Anakin and Tahiri escape from Yuuzhan Vong custody, and later he was one of the first to defect. If I remember correctly, he also performed amazingly at the final battle at Coruscant." His eyebrows went up. "And now he's an X-wing pilot, huh? Well, we need all the pilots we can get right now." He resumed his pace.

"I agree," Jaina said, nodding, "and he's proven to be one of the best. Anyway, what's the reason we got called here? We didn't get a great deal of news out there, but the Kilrathi have been rather quiet. I assume that something serious is going down in this area of the galaxy. Something big." As she finished this sentence, the two of them got on the lift that led to what Jaina presumed was the command bridge. In keeping with the design of Kilrathi ships, the lift was not closed in and had no guardrails.

"You assume correctly, sis," Jacen said as the lift began its ascent. "We have been monitoring enemy movements in this and neighbouring areas, and they have been congregating on Naboo. The Kilrathi defector, Lord Hhallas, has informed us of an upcoming event that is being held on it."

"And you actually take his word on it?" Jaina inquired suspiciously as the lift finished its trip and the two of them stepped off.

"I'll admit, I'm a bit wary myself, but if what he says is true, then we have pretty much no choice than to listen to him. Millions of lives are at stake." Jacen delivered the last sentence with a grim finality about it that was enough to give Jaina pause. At that moment, the twins stepped through the doors into the command bridge of the _Ras Nik'hra_ , receiving brief nods from the guards on either side of the door.

The bridge was roughly the same size as one might expect on a Nebulon-B or Assault Frigate; both of which were commonly used by the Rebellion during the Galactic Civil War. But the Fralthi cruiser's bridge looked much more militaristic in nature, and conformed to the kind of twisted art and architecture that had since become associated with the Kilrathi. However, it still displayed the usual terminals and holographic displays.

At the main display in the middle of the bridge right now were several individuals that Jaina knew very well, and her heart was lifted at seeing them again for the first time in many months. Her parents were there; her mother Leia, still looking as beautiful and confident as always, and her father Han, still with his cocky swagger and attitude. Behind them, as if standing guard, was Lupwaroo, the son of Chewbacca who nonetheless was a cherished and beloved family member. Standing off to the side, looking somewhat left out but at the same time appearing to constantly be observing and analysing his surroundings was Em-Teedee. Jaina smiled at the sight of her family.

Han and Leia appeared to be in animated converstation with two other people on the other side of the holo display. One was Wedge Antilles, another person whose close relationship to the Solo clan made him practically family.

The other person was one Jaina did not recognise. He stood over the others, except maybe Lumpwaroo, by several inches, and his leonine features, particularly his paws with a thumb and three fingers, clearly denoted him as a member of the Kilrathi species. The enemy. Though her common sense urged her not to do so, Jaina found her fingers edging ever so slightly closer to the lightsaber hanging at her waist.

Jacen noticed this, and he gently grabbed her hand, pulling it away from her weapon. "Relax, Jaina," he whispered. "That's the defector. He's on our side now."

Jaina opened her mouth to respond. The one she was most tempted to use was _I'd like to believe that_ , but instead, she settled for a simple "Sorry."

Her brother nodded and released her hand. As they got closer to the group, the words that were being exchanged started to get clearer, though once Jaina's presence was known, this halted immediately, and Han and Leia stepped forward to embrace their daughter. Afterwards, Lumpy came forward and, in true Wookiee fashion, swept her up in a huge hug, her laughs muffled against his hairy chest.

Em-Teedee cluttered forward on his metal feet. "I must say, Mistress Jaina, it is indeed a pleasure to see you," he exuded. "How might my former master Lowbacca be?"

"He's doing fine, Em-Teedee," Jaina answered with a smile. "In fact, he's on this ship, and you should be able to see him later on."

"Ah," Em-Teedee said, "that would be most pleasant."

Jaina gave the droid another grin before turning to receive another warm welcome from Wedge. With the introductions out of the way, he turned towards the Kilrathi noble who had stood politely and patiently off to the side.

"Jaina, I would like you to meet our newest ally; Lord Ralgha nar Hhallas. He has recently announced his intention to defect to the Galactic Alliance, and was even kind enough to turn over command of this vessel, the _Ras Nik'hra_. Lord Ralgha, this Jaina Solo; Jedi Knight and daughter of my good friends here." He gestured over his shoulder to Han and Leia.

Ralgha bowed deeply. "Knight Jaina nar Solo. I am honoured to meet you."

Jaina nodded. "The honour is mine, Lord Ralgha. But I must ask, what is that 'nar' word you used in my name?"

Ralgha brought himself up to his full height. "Forgive me, it is something that we Kilrathi use in our own names. It combines our given title with that of our clan. In your toungue, 'nar' would literally mean 'of the clan'. For example, I am Ralgha of the clan Hhallas."

"You didn't use that when we first started talking," Wedge pointed out, slightly confused.

Ralgha turned to him, a grin evident on his feline features. "That is because I was unaware of how you used your names. Your name, for example, would have been Wedge of the Antilles clan, or perhaps Antilles of the Wedge clan. Now that I know, I choose to begin using the common Kilrathi practice."

Jaina did her best to stifle a chuckle. "Thank you very much, Lord Ralgha, but I, for one, am not very big on formal titles. I would prefer it if you just called me Jaina."

"I'd prefer a more casual attitude too," Han murmured just loud enough so that everybody could hear. "All the formality reminds me too much of the Noghri calling me Han clan Solo."

Ignoring him, Ralgha nodded. "Very well, Jaina, I will honour your request."

Jaina gave her own nod and smiled. She then stepped back to allow the older people to continue with their plans.

"As we were discussing," Wedge continued, "our scouts and spy craft that we have inserted into the area around the Naboo system have confirmed that there is indeed a mass build-up of Kilrathi forces, which means it is highly likely that this Sivar-Eshrad thing that you mentioned is indeed going to be underway relatively soon."

 _Sivar-Eshrad?_ Jaina whispered to Jacen over their private mental bond.

 _Let's just say it's some kind of ceremonial massacre that the Kilrathi hold every year_ , Jacen answered rather simply.

 _Oh_ , Jaina whispered back, her tone indicating that she was more than a little shocked and horrified.

"Needless to say, now that we know about this, we have to do something about it," Wedge continued uninterrupted.

"We're not just leaving Naboo to its fate," Leia declared with a note of finality in her voice. "It may be my mother's home planet, but that's not the only reason why we need to stop this ceremony. Naboo is home to some six hundred million Humans and Gungans. We have already lost so many people in this war, but that will be practically nothing compared to what would happen if all those people get slaughtered."

"I admire your determination, Leia," Ralgha said, using her informal title since she had given him permission to do so. "However, as I have stated, at no point in our history since the Sivar-Eshrad's inception has it ever been disrupted."

"But the Kilrathi have never faced an enemy like us before," Han pointed out.

"Perhaps," Ralgha continued. "But even then, we still do not know the size and composition of the force that my people have sent to Naboo. Nor do we know how organised they will be."

"With all due respect," Han said, a touch of sarcasm in his voice, "but a massacre of an entire planet's population is not exactly something that requires a great deal of organisation."

"Not a great deal, no," Ralgha conceded. "However, there must be some degree of it, if for no other reason than for the Emperor and his closest aides to retain control."

"So, will the Emperor himself be there?" Leia asked.

Ralgha shook his large head. "No. In fact, he hardly ever ventures outside of the Imperial palace on Kilrah. But, as tradition demands it, he will still have someone there to represent him, most likely a close blood relative."

"Like a son?"

"Perhaps, but I doubt it. The Emperor sired two sons, but only one is still alive. His name is Gilkarg, and he is a Kalralahr, a supreme commander of the Imperial fleet. I do not know what he is up to at the moment, but he is probably the least of your concerns. No, apart from the Emperor, there is one other individual whom you should be very careful of." Ralgha pressed a few buttons on the panel, and one of the holographic displays lit up, displaying the face of a Kilrathi.

Those of other species tended to view Kilrathi as being visually similar to the point of being identical. The one on the display, however, seemed like the kind to stand out. He wore several metal adornments on his face; ones that suggested royalty of some kind. His fangs were bared in an evil grin, and his eyes seemed to glow with pure malevolence.

"Another of the Emperor's relatives?" Wedge asked.

"His grandson, Gilkarg's son, Thrakhath nar Kiranka," Ralgha answered. "Many Kilrathi are bloodthirsty and violent, but he makes many of us look rather civilised. I have reason to believe that Thrakhath himself will be hosting the Sivar-Eshrad on Naboo."

Han gave a visible shudder. "I haven't even met the guy, and he scares the hell out of me."

"Regardless of whatever feelings we may have, I actually believe that this provides us with a unique opportunity," Ralgha stated.

All eyes were suddenly on the Kilrathi noble. "How, exactly?" Jacen asked.

"The Emperor thinks very highly of Thrakhath, and there is little doubt that he favours him over Gilkarg. As a result, Thrakhath holds a lot of influence, particularly in the Imperial Palace. All things considered, he is perhaps the second most powerful individual in the Empire, and to host an event such as the Sivar-Eshrad is indeed a great honour. If such an event were to proceed smoothly, then it would certainly raise Thrakhath's standing throughout the Empire."

Wedge caught on to what Ralgha was saying. "But if things were to go wrong, then it could seriously damage his reputation."

"Exactly," the Kilrathi noble confirmed.

"Then this is definitely an opportunity that we cannot pass up."

It was here that Han interjected. "Look, this all seems well and good in theory, but I think we're all forgetting the problems ahead of us. Okay, we know how important this ceremony is, and we know that it is being held on Naboo. But the Kilrathi probably have the entire planet surrounded by now. In which case, there's no way for us to get past them."

Jaina had been quiet up to this point, but now she spoke up. "Actually, I think I have an idea." Here, everyone turned to her. "We don't know exactly what the Kilrathi are throwing at Naboo, so I believe some sort of scouting mission is in order. And I don't mean just some sort of probing done from the edge of the system; no, we need someone to get up and close to the enemy and try to find out what they've got in full detail."

"Sounds kind of suicidal," Jacen murmured from his sister's side.

"True," Jaina admitted. "Which is why we shouldn't use any of our craft."

This elicited a feeling of counfusion from everybody who was listening to her. "What exactly do you mean?" Wedge asked.

"Simple. We fly some of _their_ craft." The confusion from everyone else suddenly became more pronounced.

"You mean… you would fly a Dralthi into the midst of a Kilrathi fleet?" Ralgha asked, clearly shocked. "Or even a Krant or Salthi? I mean no offense, Knight Jaina, but surely you must be joking."

"Oh, she's not joking," Wedge put in, his arms crossed over his chest. "Jaina's a natual pilot, and she also has a history of flying captured enemy craft. She even flew a Yuuzhan Vong ship in the last war. That's where she got the reputation of being the Trickster Goddess."

"This is the only chance we really have," Jaina pointed out. "We need to know exactly what is going on with the enemy forces, and in order to do that, we need information from up close. But if we fly an X-wing or any of our ships, they'll blow us out of the sky on sight. If we go in with their ships, then we'd be able to blend in, and they will be none the wiser. Besides, you've got an entire hanger full of Kilrathi fighters, so why not use them?"

Ralgha paused for a moment, as if considering his options. The young Jedi woman had made a valid point. "I suppose that you will be one of the pilots to fly those missions?" he asked.

Drawing herself up to her full height, Jaina looked the Kilrathi dead in the eye. "Yes, I am. If anybody can learn to fly those craft specifically for this mission, then it's me." Behind her, Jaina could sense the pride radiating from her family, and secretly she basked in it.

Ralgha nar Hhallas let out a soft breath. "Very well, then," he said. "There is no time to waste."

* * *

 **Still waiting for those reviews, people! Getting none is really disheartening!**


	12. Kilrah II

**IasWraith: Glad you're liking this. I haven't gotten much attention here, but I chalk that up to the _Star Wars_ category having so many stories with lots of turnover. And I am a fan of Jacen too, but as I was reading LOTF, I pretty much resigned myself to the fact that he was probably going to die in the end. So when he did, I was only mildly surprised.**

 **But I am someone who loved the _Young Jedi Knights_ series, and the mistreatment of those characters afterwards is why I harbour a strong dislike of the _New Jedi Order_ series. I read the LOTF out of curiosity more than anything else, but I did not even touch FOTJ, because after Jaina killed Jacen, I was like "Screw this, I'm done!"**

 **So when I was writing this, I decided to make it an alternate universe that was slightly less sucky. But like I said, after I finished this in 2010, I more or less lost interest in the whole project and forgot about it until now, so this story is all I did. Sorry about that, but I hope you enjoy it anyway.**

* * *

 **CHAPTER ELEVEN**

 **x**

 **x**  
 **Imperial Palace**

 **Kilrah**

"Our conquest of the galaxy is not going fast enough."

That simple comment was enough to jolt the Emperor out of the gentle lull of indifference that he had found himself in over the last few minutes. Being the leader of an Empire meant that someone in his position was often required to partake in matters of politics and diplomacy. Sure, it provided one with ultimate power over their subjects, but it obviously did not come without its pitfalls. And he had been forced to learn this firsthand.

Every now and then, the Emperor was required to hold court with the Barons; the leaders of the other seven Noble Clans, to discuss matters deemed vital to the Empire. But more often than not during these meetings, he found himself wishing that he were out on the frontlines, spilling the blood of many an enemy. But then, who was to say that such an event could not occur even here in the halls of the Imperial Palace? That was the Kilrathi way, after all.

Discreetly easing himself back up in his chair, the Emperor narrowed his one good eye at the individual who had just spoken. It came as absolutely no surprise whatsoever that, of all the Barons, it was Jukaga nar Ki'ra who chose to vocalise his disapproval of the Emperor's policies. He was by far one of the craftiest individuals that the Emperor had ever had the displeasure of meeting. He was very intelligent, and he hardly ever did anything that did not benefit him or his goals in some way. This kind of behaviour was not uncommon amongst the Kilrathi, but Jukaga took this to a whole new level.

And, of course, he absolutely despised the Emperor with every fibre of his being.

This hatred seemed to stem from Jukaga's belief that the current ruler was of lower blood, and that his policies would inevitably lead the Kilrathi Empire to ruin. But that was only scratching the surface. A much deeper reason was the fact that Jukaga's clan, the Ki'ra, had actually been the rulers of the Empire long ago; before the Utara had visited Kilrah and bestowed upon them the gift of space travel, with which they would use to bring their desire for battle and conquest to the stars. But the Kiranka had launched a crusade against the Ki'ra, ousting them from power and establishing themselves as the new royal family.

Even a passing thought of the Emperor would cause Jukaga to positively seethe with rage; an unrelenting hatred at the fact that the current ruler was the decendant of those who had taken the throne away from his clan. Rightfully, it should have been _him_ sitting on the Throne of Kilrah! Not this descendant of usurpers and backstabbers!

Countless times, the insidious Baron had plotted over and over in his mind the day when he would depose the Emperor, evening the score and regaining the throne for his clan. The day he would finally exact his revenge for the Ki'ra against the vile Kiranka who had taken the power away from them. It was a day he looked forward to with much eagerness.

But until then, he would play the dutiful follower, carrying out the Emperor's will when necessary, all while discreetly attempting to undermine his power from beneath him. Sowing mistrust and dissent within the high-ranking nobles, in the hopes that it would filter down the ranks into the lower classes, laying the foundation for that single glorious moment when he would make his move.

Jukaga was a patient individual. He could wait.

"And what evidence do you have to back up such a claim?" another deep voice growled in the dim lighting of the meeting room. Jukaga recognised it as belonging to Baron Talmak nar Sutaghi. A powerful clan in their own right, the Sutaghi owned several of the more developed inner worlds of the Empire. Unfortunately, they had an annoying habit of palming off their problems onto one of the other clans. If they were faced with a setback or something else which could cause them trouble, they very rarely fixed it themselves, but rather turned it into something which another clan would solve for them. Baron Talmak had honed this into an art form.

"Indeed," another voice rumbled. "All things considered, we seem to be doing quite well. We have expanded faster than we ever have in our history." This remark was made by Buktag'ka; the Baron of the Sikhag clan. Out of the eight Kilrathi clans, the Sikhag were considered the lowest of them all, and were willing to do anything to elevate their status. This included sucking up to the Emperor and the royal family at every available opportunity, which was what Buktag'ka seemed to be doing right now.

"All things considered, yes, we have made expansions the likes of which have never been recorded in the history of our race," Jukaga replied very coolly. "But at the same time, one cannot help but wonder that maybe we are going too slowly. After all, in the past, we conquered our foes quickly."

"That is true," spoke up Yikta of the Caxki clan. "But we were only fighting small isolated races then. This time, we are waging war upon the whole galaxy. Even at our fastest pace, such a campaign is going to take years to complete. If we expand too quickly, we risk overstretching our resources and leaving ourselves vulnerable to attack. In this particular situation, it pays to take things relatively slow."

The Emperor only just managed to suppress a frustrated groan. He had been hearing this same argument over and over again ever since the war started over a year ago. While virtually every Kilrathi was behind their war effort against the Galactic Alliance, there was still division amongst them. There were those among his people who wanted to step up the pace against the Alliance and hit them hard and fast, and there were others who believed that they should take their time and be more thorough. But one thing that the Emperor could count on was the fact that Baron Jukaga would oppose him on everything, regardless of what the matter was and where he actually stood on it.

By Sivar, did he ever hate politics!

Wishing to head off any futher pointless debate, the Emperor raised his voice and spoke his next comment in a commanding tone. "Regardless of your constantly-shifting stances on the war, I believe that we have found something that may very well please all of you." Here, the squabbling between the Barons ceased, and he lowered his voice. "Something that may very well turn the favour of this war in our favour." He gave the others a knowing grin, his pointed fangs glinting in the dull light. Motioning with his right claw, he ushered forward a figure that, until now, had remained hidden in the shadows behind his large chair.

Stepping forward, Gilkarg nar Kiranka carried himself with a sense of pride and decorum commonly seen amongst long-serving members of the military, regardless of what side they fought for. Though he was not as revered as his father, nor quite as feared as his ruthless son, he was still Kalralahr; the Supreme Commander of the armed forces, and thus commanded a great deal of respect from all facets of their society.

Drawing himself up to his full height, Gilkarg began his speech. "Under orders from the Emperor, I was assigned to investigate a series of rumours that we managed to discern from many of the captives we secured and interrogated during our campaign throughout the Outer Rim. Specifically, we wanted to determine if there were any serious threats that could pose a potentially great danger to us or our forces."

"If such threats existed, then surely we would have heard about them by now," commented Vak, the Baron of the Ragitagha clan. "In fact, they would have most likely used them against us already."

"Your arrogance will be your undoing!" snapped another Baron. "You continue to underestimate our adversaries. Just because they have not utilised them yet does not mean they have no intention of doing so in the future. If you truly understood war, then you would realise that one does not use their greatest assest until such time as it is required." It was no surprise to anybody that the individual who had spoken up was Qar'ka, the leader of the Qarg clan. While the Ragitagha were famous for their over-developed sense of superiority, the Qarg were known for employing a sense of rationale and intelligence with the way they fought; a tactic not usually employed by the other clans.

Not only that, but for as long as any Kilrathi could remember, the Qarg and Ragitagha had been long-standing enemies, much like the Ki'ra and the Kiranka. But while the cause of that particular enmity was well known, the reason for the Qarg-Ragitagha feud was more of a mystery, though speculation abounded. It was commonly assumed that the two sides had been at odds for so long, the reason had simply been forgotten.

Eager to head off any further bickering between the two rival clan leaders, Kalralahr Gilkarg cut in, continuing his presentation in a slightly louder voice. "Regardless of what they may or may not have right now, my people managed to ascertain that such objects have indeed existed in the past. For example, from what we have learnt about the recent history of the greater galactic community, we know that there was a great war between the New Republic – the precursor to the current Alliance – and their enemies who called themselves the Galactic Empire. You are all familiar with this, correct?" Here, the other occupants of the room nodded.

"Well, apparently, this Empire was quite liberal in their use of such 'superweapons'. In fact, they built not one, but two of such devices that were called Death Stars. Each one was roughly the size and shape of a small moon, and was equipped with a superlaser that was capable of destroying an entire planet, reducing it to an asteroid field. And from what I heard, they utilised these Death Stars more than once. If you were to look up the planets Despayre and Alderaan, you will find they no longer exist. At least not as intact planets."

A shocked murmur rippled through the room. Ka'ta of the Kurutak clan asked a question. "But what could possibly be the purpose of such a horrible weapon?"

"From what we determined," Gilkarg continued, "the leader of this Empire, a Human named Palpatine, cared very little for honour and glory. He simply wanted to control everything, and make everybody so afraid of him that they obeyed his will without question. The Death Stars were likely designed for such a purpose. If a planet showed any sign of disobedience, they would be threatened with utter destruction, all in order to prevent anybody from questioning Palpatine's authority. If they openly continued to rebel, the whole world would be destroyed."

The silence in the room suddenly became all the more oppressive. The Kilrathi were undoubtedly a violent race, but they usually did such things for the good of their whole Empire. This Palpatine, however, seemed more than willing to wipe out countless millions - if not more - simply to force others into doing what he wanted, almost like a petulant child throwing a temper tantrum because things did not go his way.

"You said that there were two of these Death Stars," Ka'ta asked tentatively. "What happened to them?"

"Fortunately, both of them were destroyed by Alliance forces in two separate battles, four years apart," Gilkarg answered, prompting very subtle sighs of relief from all around the room. "Apparently, both of them had very vital weak spots that the Alliance was able to exploit, which caused chain reactions that ultimately destroyed them. And even then, there were other weapons that the Empire built, but were ultimately destroyed by the Alliance."

"Were they as terrifying as these Death Stars?" asked Yikta nar Caxki.

"Some were," Gilkarg responded. "Others were even worse. There was a weapon called the Galaxy Gun, which was also capable of destroying entire planets. Its method was slightly different, though; instead of using very powerful lasers, it launched projectiles that contained a very rare substance capable of generating a tremendous explosion. These projectiles could be sent through hyperspace itself, and when they impacted with the targeted planet, or starship for that matter, it would burrow to the core, and set off a chain reaction to make it explode.

"Another Imperial weapon was one known as the Sun Crusher. This one was a small vessel, not much larger than a fighter, but it was capable of launching specialised projectiles into a star. These projectiles contained something which would destabilise the core of the star, causing it to go supernova."

"This Sun Crusher was capable of destroying entire star systems?" Talmak nar Sutaghi asked incredulously.

A simple nod from Gilkarg was all the answer that was required. The Kalralahr paused for a moment to let the shocking news sink in. Privately, he enjoyed their fear. Though these weapons he spoke of were not of Kilrathi design, and had long since been destroyed, it still pleased him that he could use them to put fear into the Nobles. They had an annoying habit of acting all superior to everybody, and there were some, particularly Jukaga, who felt that they were more suited to rule the Empire. If nothing else, they needed a sharp reality check to keep them under control and remind them who was in charge.

Though the Emperor would never voice such thoughts out loud, Gilkarg knew deep down that his father appreciated him doing such things.

Naturally, it was Jukaga nar Ki'ra who broke the spell. "Well, as devastating as all these weapons were, if they were all destroyed, then why should we waste any time worrying about them?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Gilkarg noticed his father flash an ever-so-slight grin, knowing that his son was about to reveal a delicious morsel of information that would put the Barons – particularly Jukaga – back in their place. "Because," he announced, "there is yet another such weapon still in existence. One that we could actually use to our own advantage."

This brought silence to the Barons once again. "What did the Imperials create this time?" Buktag'ka nar Sikhag asked rather tentatively.

"They did not create this one. No, this particular weapon is very old, believed to predate the old Republic that used to rule the galaxy before the Galactic Empire supplanted it. Nobody knows who created it, but its power is reported to be unbelievable. Not only can it destroy whole systems, it can _create_ them, as well!"

"Create them?" asked Buktag'ka. Gilkarg ignored him and continued.

"This facility is called Centrepoint Station, and it is located in the star system known to the Alliance as Corellia. Legend has it that the system itself was created by this station; that its tremendous power was used to transport five habitable planets into stable orbits around the central star. If these legends are true, then this station is a potentially powerful asset that we could use against our enemies."

"And how do you propose we do that?" Jukaga asked, his voice tinted with sarcasm. "You politely ask the Alliance to let us use it?"

"No," Gilkarg retorted, his own voice displaying a frosty edge. "We capture it. The task itself would require some effort. However, the timing is likely at its most optimal."

"How so? We are in the middle of the Sivar-Eshrad."

"That is exactly the point! With the amount of effort we are throwing at Naboo to do the Sivar-Eshrad, the Alliance will be distracted, and they will likely be unable to commit forces to any other fronts. This makes it an ideal time to make our strike against Centrepoint Station."

Qar'ka nar Qarg leaned forward as he spoke. "You intend to commit many of our forces to capture a mysterious facility that we know nothing about? Have you lost your mind? How do we even know that we will be able to operate this station properly? For all we know, you could make a serious mistake which will destroy the station instead, in which case, we would potentially lose a powerful weapon as well as a great deal of our own forces!"

This sudden outburst brought forth other exclamations from the others. Both the Emperor and Gilkarg noticed that Vak nar Ragitagha was staring down Qar'ka, his clawed hand edging ever so slowly towards the dagger hanging from his belt. Given the intense rivalry between the two clans, he would have used any excuse to shed his enemy's blood. It did not matter in the slightest what the reason or excuse was; _any_ one would do.

Despite the contempt that he felt for the squabbling Barons, the Emperor preferred not to let such a meeting degenerate into bloodshed. Standing up, he raised his voice and bellowed, "Silence!"

At their leader's booming command, the Barons immediately fell silent and turned their attention to him. Vak's hand moved back away from his dagger. Once the attention was back on him, the Emperor slowly and deliberately sat back down on his chair, the Barons following suit, never breaking their gaze away from him.

"I understand that this plan is…" he briefly glanced sideways at his son, "questionable." Gilkarg's gaze dropped to the floor. "However, history has shown, not just in our society, but in other societies around the galaxy, that the course of history has often been decided by the actions and choices of a few key individuals. Sometimes it is even a single individual who just happens to be at the critical moment at the opportune time. Given your interest in other cultures, Baron Jukaga, you should know this better than most."

Despite the obvious rebuke, that was true. Since expanding out from their own corner of the galaxy, the Kilrathi had come in contact with many more societies than they could have ever dreamed of. This had prompted a sudden influx of information on these societies; their history, culture, customs, literature, everything. Given their belligerent nature, most had displayed little to no interest in such things, opting instead to kill simply these peoples instead of study them. But there were some of the more intelligent ones in Kilrathi society who made it a point to learn about their new adversaries, if only to find any weaknesses they could exploit. Baron Jukaga was just such an individual.

"Now," the Emperor continued, "whatever the reasons or history behind this Centepoint Station, my son has determined that it does indeed seem to be a weapon of great power. We have no way of knowing whether or not this is true, but we cannot simply dismiss such things because they sound too incredible. However, I have only asked Gilkarg to research such things. What he chooses to do with such information is entirely up to him." He turned to his son. "So, Kalralahr Gilkarg nar Kiranka," he enunciated his full title, "what shall you choose to do about this?"

Suddenly feeling the eyes of everybody in the room upon him, Gilkarg had to take a few moments to steel himself. What his father had said echoed through his mind, throughout history, there had indeed been individuals whose very actions had steered the course of history. If he had made the wrong decision, then an incredible opportunity could have been lost, and he would probably be remembered through the ages as one who hesitated at his greatest moment.

But on the other paw, if he made the right decision, then he would be remembered as the great supreme commander who turned made perhaps the greatest strategic victory in the history of the Kilrathi; one that allowed them to eventually conquer the entire galaxy!

Thinking about that, he knew he could not let such an opportunity pass him up.

Gilkarg turned to the gathering of Barons, and made his announcement in a deep, clear growl. "We will take Centrepoint Station!"

* * *

 **That statement 'on the other paw'... it's obviously a play of 'on the other hand', but since Kilrathis have paws, I figured that was more likely to be in their lexicon.**

 **All of the Barons in this chapter are pre-existing ones from the _Wing Commander_ franchise. I researched them, their clans and how each of them would act. I'd like to think I did them justice in this chapter.**


	13. Corellia II

**CHAPTER TWELVE**

 **x**

 **x**

 **Coronet, Corellia**

Thracken Sal-Solo had to admit that politics were a strange thing. There were some who lived by it, and there were many more who thought it accomplished nothing. In terms of likeability, politicians were definitely on the lower end of the scale. Admittedly, there were those who had won the hearts and minds of the people that they claimed to serve. People such as Leia Organa Solo.

Thracken felt his lip curl in contempt. Although he had never had anything personal against Leia, the fact that she was married to his cousin Han, a man whom he had always utterly despised, was enough to earn her a permanent black mark in his book. But when one added the fact that she was a Jedi… well, that was all the more reason to dislike her.

Regardless, Thracken had always held true to the belief that politics was power. Individuals such as Palpatine had been a prime example of this. From his position as a humble senator from Naboo, he had manipulated his way into becoming the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic; ultimately turning it into the Galactic Empire that had gripped the entire galaxy by the throat for many years. In doing so, he had managed to secure absolute power for himself, and played perhaps the greatest trick ever upon the unsuspecting galaxy.

Despite the fact that Palpatine had been a Sith; a dark version of the Jedi that Thracken hated, he had to admit that he admired the man for his cunning and intellect.

Now Thracken Sal-Solo found himself in the position to finally bring the worlds of the Corellian system into a position of power that they so rightfully deserved, but had been so cruelly deprived numerous times throughout history. And he had the ultimate trump card to ensure it.

Provided those miscreants he had under his command could get the damned thing working again!

Right now, Thracken sat back in the chair in Aidel Saxan's office - now _his_ office, he liked to remind himself - and addressed the communication screen in front of him. His bearing suggested that he was not exactly impressed with the whole situation. He was absent-mindedly rubbing his fingers against his temple; a habit that many people did when they were feeling frustrated.

"What do you mean, the systems are not fully functional?"

The man on the screen was clad in the garb typically seen by those who specialised in science and research. His round face and thinning dark hair displayed the level of stress he was currently under.

"I mean that from what we've been able to tell, the station is in worse shape than we expected. We are reading fluctuations and discrepancies in practically every sector, and the firing mechanism is severely damaged. Further tests could determine –"

"Never mind your 'further tests', Doral!" Thracken snapped, rising out of his chair and bringing his face closer to the screen, as if that would help stare down the man. "Just tell me how long it will be before you will have the station operational again!"

The man on the screens, Doral, wilted slightly at Thracken's tone. "Well, given the damage that Centrepoint sustained in the battle, I'm afraid that it might take longer than we originally planned before we can use it." His hesitation was evident in his voice.

During the Yuuzhan Vong War, Thracken had used the ancient and deadly Centrepoint Station against the enemy forces. Unfortunately, his aim had been slightly off, and although it destroyed many Yuuzhan Vong vessels, it had destroyed much of those from the Hapes Consortium as well. In retaliation for the attack, the Yuuzhan Vong had launched an assault on Centrepoint, in the hopes of destroying, or at least disabling it. During the battle, the Corellians had asked the Alliance and Hapans to help defend the station. The Alliance had responded, but the Hapans did not. The battle had eventually been won, but the Yuuzhan Vong still managed to cause tremendous damage to Centrepoint.

This caused a bit of tension between the Corellians and Hapans afterwards, but relations cooled after a time. Most people came to the belief that, since Centrepoint Station was such a dangerous weapon, it was probably a good thing it had been taken out of commission.

And yet, there were still lingering feelings of resentment among some of the more extreme elements of the Corellian population. It was those feelings that Thracken and his allies had played upon, and would continue to do so in order to achieve their goals. Right now, however, they needed to focus on getting Centrepoint back online, which was why he had sent his top researchers and scientists up to the station. But one of those researchers was currently telling Thracken that the problem was worse than they had originally thought. That did not sit well with him.

Thracken leaned over the desk, bringing his bearded face as close to the screen as he could manage, his eyes blazing with fury. "You listen to me, you gutless wimp! I don't care if you have to cut any corners in order to get Centrepoint Station working again, I want it online very, very soon. And by 'very, very soon', I mean within the next few days, or a few weeks at the most. And if you feel that you are unable to accomplish that, then I am sure that I can find someone who will. After I arrange your… permanent retirment. Are we clear?"

At this point, Doral looked like he may very well be about to faint from sheer terror. If he had any more doubts about his leader's demands he swallowed them and nodded. "Yes sir," he managed weakly.

Thracken slowly sat back down, his gaze never leaving the terrified visage of Doral until he pressed the button to kill the connection.

"You obviously like to rule through fear," came a voice from Thracken's right. Leaning against the wall of the office was a man wearing a Corellian officer's uniform. The Five Worlds Liberation Front had many members who were serving in the military, and this is what allowed them to get the drop on their counterparts during the coup. The man's creased face and grey hair indicated that he was probably in at least his fifties, and the way in which he carried himself suggested that he had seen more than his fair share of combat.

"Fear is an efficient motivator," Thracken replied simply. "It reminds them who is in charge, and that punishments await those who do not perform admirably." He turned to the man. "I thought you would have been aware of this, Cavil. You spent several years in the Empire before you resigned and joined the Corellian military. The Empire ruled through fear, and that was what caused many planets to fall in line."

"Not enough," Cavil huffed as he pushed himself from the wall. "Otherwise the Rebel Alliance would never have gained as much support as it did."

"You sound resentful."

"In a sense, I am. The Empire would have been much better prepared to deal with the threat posed by the Yuuzhan Vong or the Kilrathi. Instead, the Rebels won, and billions more suffered and died because of it." Cavil stopped and fixed Thracken with a stern gaze. "I only hope that your motives are as pure as those."

Thracken sat back and fixed the other man with a steady gaze. "My desire is for no more and no less than the freedom for the entire Corellian system. To prove to the rest of the galaxy that we can stand on our own feet, and that we do not need any help to do so. We also need to ensure that we do not become tainted by outside opinions and ideals."

Cavil gave a simple nod. "A noble enough goal, I suppose. So why put so much time and energy into trying to fix Centrepoint Station? The Five Worlds Liberation Front has enough resources to protect all the worlds in the system, and it is probably just a matter of time before the rest of the citizens fall in line. For all intents and purposes, we can already stand against anything the Galactic Alliance can throw at us. Or any other faction for that matter."

Thracken held up a finger, as if to point out a vital fact. "Because, like I said, fear is an excellent motivator. Imagine that you have two people locked in a debate. One person's argument may make more sense, but people are still going to follow the other guy if he has a bigger and deadlier weapon. Palpatine knew this, and that was why he built so many superweapons; the two Death Stars, the Sun Crusher, the Galaxy Gun…"

"All of which were eventually destroyed," Cavil put in.

"True," Thracken admitted. "And I will admit, there is a chance that Centrepoint Station itself could very well fall to the same fate if we are not careful. But the point is that while those Imperial superweapons existed, the people were much more fearful of the Empire than they were at other times. And we have a weapon that has proven itself to be just as devastating, if not more so. So why should we fear to use it?" A smile came to his face. "We are already on the way of achieving independence for the Corellian system. The successful reactivation of Centrepoint simply ensures that nobody will be willing to risk total destruction in order to challenge that."

Cavil's expression had not changed, but the look in his eyes seemed to suggest that his mind was ticking over. "But still, why put so much effort into repairing the station so quickly? The Galactic Alliance is focused on their war against the Kilrathi, so why would a rebellion in a system far from the frontlines even be worth their attention?"

The smile vanished from Thracken's face. "Because the war will not go on forever. And even then, the Alliance considers Corellia to be an important system; if for no other reason than because of Centrepoint, or even the fact that many of their so-called heroes come from here."

"Like your cousin," Cavil pointed out simply.

"Yes, like my cousin," Thracken hissed distastefully, as if the very words were a disgusting poision. "My point is, it is only a matter of time before the Alliance, or anyone else, chooses to make their move against us, and I would much rather be prepared sooner than later." He leaned back in his chair again. "Consider it to be… prudent planning, if you will."

"If you say so," Cavil replied with a somewhat dismissive shrug of the shoulders. If Thracken had any semblance of being insulted by this sleight, he definitely disguised it well.

A sudden trilling from Thracken's desk cut off any further discussion. Leaning forward, he pressed a button. "What is it?" he demanded, wasting no time with any form of politeness.

"Our contacts on the other four planets are ready for the meeting," a female voice came over the speaker. Though the woman was not really a secretary, Thracken still needed someone loyal to keep him apprised of important events. The woman had proven herself to be a loyal member of the Five Worlds Liberation Front, and so Thracken had offered her the position. At least temporarily.

"Patch them through," Thracken ordered, then sat back again as four motes of light materialised in front of his desk. Thracken was the overall leader of the FWLF, but even he could not be in five places at once, so he would directly deal with the situation on Corellia itself, and these individuals would be put in charge of the operations on the other four inhabited planets in the system.

Two of the individuals were Human males, and they were overseeing of the operations on the Double Worlds of Talus and Tralus. The other two were a Drall and a Selonian, and they led the movements on the planets from which the names of their species had been taken.

Personally, Thracken would have prefered to use only Humans in his goals, given his dislike for members of any other species. Right now, of course, he did his best to hide this as he addressed his top commanders.

"How goes our operations?" he asked simply.

The Talus representative spoke first. "The situation on Talus has finally calmed down. We were still dealing with some residual resistance from the police and military who were still loyal to the previous government, but that has been dealt with." Thracken nodded, then turned to the other Human.

"The progression on Tralus has been surprisingly smooth," reported the other man. "We have received words that in some cities, local civilians have actually joined up with our forces. If nothing else, we see the potential for more recruits."

"Indeed we do," Thracken commented with a smile. "What about you?" he asked the next individual.

The next speaker, a short and stubby Drall, attempted to draw himself higher in order to make himself seem more commanding, or perhaps intimidating. "The ruling den has been overthrown. Resistance has been high, but many have also come to their senses when they realise that we are fighting for the good of all people in this system."

"Admittedly, we are still having the same problem," reported the Selonian. "Even though most of the planet is now under our control, we continue to encounter pockets of stiff resistance. But it is just a matter of time before they fall."

"Glad to hear it," said Thracken. "Now gentlemen, I have called this meeting to discuss a pressing issue." Here the other four paid their leader full attention. "In order to achieve all of our goals, we must show that the Five Worlds Liberation Front is a power to be feared and respected. Not just throughout the Corellian sector, but the entire galaxy. We need to show everyone else; the Galactic Alliance, the Imperial Remnant, the Hapans, hell, even those Kilrathi animals, that the Five Worlds can, and most certainly do, stand on their own feet independently from everybody else. And in order to do that, we need to show them that we have the ultimate trump card."

"You are talking about Centrepoint Station," the Talus representative said, not as a question, but as a fact.

"I am," Thracken answered simply. "For the past few days, I have been sending my top researchers to the station in an attempt to repair it."

"Are you sure that's possible?" the Tralus representative asked tentatively. "The Yuuzhan Vong did quite a bit of damage to it."

"I will admit that those freaks were definitely thorough in their job," Thracken conceded, "there can be no doubt about that. However, as long as we have control of the station, I believe it is unlikely that anyone will be willing to defy us head-on."

"What if several factions united together to attack us?" the Selonian pointed out.

Thracken turned to look directly at the hologram of the tall weasel-like being. "That is another reason as to why I called this little meeting." His gaze shifted back to address the group as a whole. "I think it is time to mobilise our fleet. Up until now, we have had them on stand-by, only to be used if the situation suddenly turned on us. But after hearing your reports and determining that we have effectively secured complete control of all five planets, I feel we need to gather our space forces together and put them all in a position where they will be needed more than anywhere else. And that position is around Centrepoint Station."

"You want us to put all of our space forces into one spot, leaving our worlds exposed?" the Drall asked incredulously.

Thracken's response was calm and collected. "If you feel the need to leave some of your forces in guarding position around your homeworld, then by all means, do so. But I would like most of them to be merged together into one major fleet under my command. If any attack is going to come at us from the outside, it will be large, hard, fast, and almost certainly aimed directly at Centrepoint. If we lose that, then we lose our edge, and our plan starts to fall apart. That simply cannot be allowed to happen.

"But if we manage to maintain that edge, then we can prove to the rest of the galaxy that the Corellian system is to be feared and respected. We can stand as an example to all others, and secure a positive future for every man, woman and child in the system." Thracken paused to let those words sink in.

"I'm hoping that by 'man, woman and child', you mean all of them, regardless of what species they are," came the smooth remark from the Selonian representative. "Your prejudice towards non-Humans is well-known, Thracken, and I am hoping that it won't be an issue. Fifteen years ago, the Sacorrian Triad did their best for all of us in this system, be they Human, Drall or Selonian. I am just hoping the goals of the Five Worlds Liberation Front is the same."

Thracken placed his hands on either side of the desk and leaned forward. When he spoke, it was in an icy tone. "I would advise that you do not concern yourself with such matters. Where the Sacorrian Triad failed, we shall succeed. All you have to worry about is doing your job. If you cannot do that, then I will find someone who will."

To his credit, the Selonian did not appear cowed by Thracken's demeanour. "Do not worry. We will do our job."

"As will we," the Drall declared.

"Good," Thracken deadpanned. "I expect you to start mobilising your fleets immediately." Not waiting for a reply from any of the four, he hit a button, and their holographic visages disappeared.

Thracken finally let the sneer he had been holding back curl his lip. Anybody who knew him would be well aware that he was a Human supremacist; he disliked any and all alien beings. He and Humans like him believed that they were the dominant species in the galaxy, and that they were well within their right to dominate, subjugate and even destroy any other species, which they viewed as all being inherently inferior. It had been a policy of Palpatine's Empire, and it was one that Thracken happened to believe in quite firmly.

Perhaps the only two species he would ever be willing to accept, or at the very least tolerate, were the Drall and Selonians, and that was probably just because they happened to occupy two of the five planets in his home system. If that were not the case, then Thracken would certainly have treated them with the same disdain he bestowed upon any other non-Humans. Still, if any Drall or Selonian was willing to do their part in liberating the Corellian system, then Thracken was willing to ignore his prejudices, at least for the time being. To him, his non-Human allies were little more than disposable tools; useful if he could control them, but not to be completely trusted.

Time would tell how useful they could be.

* * *

 **In case there are any _Battlestar Galactica_ fans out there wondering, yes, the characters of Doral and Cavil were named after the Cylons from that show. This fic has a few BSG references. See if you can spot any more of them!**

 **Years ago, when I was writing this, I consulted with a fellow SW fanfic writer on Thracken's attitude towards the Drall and Selonians. She believed that, given his xenophobic tendencies, he would see them as tools to use as opposed to true allies. I agreed, so I tried to include that here.**

 **Like I said earlier, Thracken is one of those people with virtually no redeeming qualities. He's an asshole, through and through.**


	14. Naboo I

**This chapter is longer than most of the others. That became apparent to me as I was editing it.**

* * *

 **CHAPTER THIRTEEN**

 **x**

 **x**

 **Kilrathi Dreadnought** _ **H'varkann**_

 **In orbit above Naboo**

Privately, Thrakhath would have to admit that it did give him some pride whenever he looked out over the massive gathering of ships that made up the mighty armada of the Kilrathi Empire. Everywhere he looked, he could see the vessels with which his people would do war against their enemies. The _Kamekh_ corvettes, _Snakeir_ carriers, _Fralthi_ cruisers, _Ralatha_ destroyers, and the tiny forms of Dralthi, Salthi and Krant fighters and bombers flitting in between them.

Of course, nothing could possibly compare to the vessel that Thrakhath himself commanded. It was larger than all of the other classes; possibly larger than all of them put together, and maybe even bigger than the kind of vessels that the Alliance and the other hostile factions could throw at them. Vessels like the Imperial-class Star Destroyer or the Mon Calamair battle cruiser.

The dreadnought simply inspired the Kilrathi with promises of victory. It was long and had a four-pronged rear section, giving a plus-symbol-shaped profile when viewed from behind. It had a long middle section that connected it to the front, which was shaped like a gigantic four-pronged claw, giving the impression that it was reaching out to grasp something and crush it. A perfect analogy for the predatory nature of the Kilrathi race.

Unfortunately, the dreadnought was ridiculously expensive to make, and so they were very rare. Nobody knew exactly how many were in existence, but it was guaranteed to be a low number. It was mainly used for power projection, but that was just fine for an individual like Thrakhath. He was proud of his own personal dreadnought, which he named the _H'varkann_. If nothing else, it served as a reminder to everybody, both his enemies and his fellow Kilrathi, that _he_ was the one in charge.

Baring his fangs, Thrakhath allowed himself a self-congratulatory moment. For all intents and purposes, everything was going rather smoothly. His grandfather had bestowed upon him the honour of overseeing the Sivar-Eshrad, and he had every intention of doing it right. In the past few days, ships from all of the clans across the Empire had appeared, ferrying people of importance and influence to Naboo. Once things were in order, the attack had begun.

The Kilrathi had swept down upon the planetary capital, which they had since discovered was called Theed, and started to lay siege to it. Thrakhath had been forced to admit the local Humans had done an admirable job of fending them off; their defences were quite formidable for a prey race. Dralthi fighters, Salthi light fighters and Krant bombers had been sent down to soften them up. Though that had gone against the nature of the Sivar-Eshrad, he knew there was plenty of victims left to do things properly. However, the locals had utilised their defences and even their own fighters, inflicting sizeable numbers of casualties on the invaders.

Then Thrakhath had decided that the capital was a little too heavily defended to attack head-on, so he ordered the Kilrathi to begin their assault on outlying areas. It had worked, and the surrounding towns and villages had fallen. Those who did not evacuate were slaughtered.

Thrakhath let out a huff of amusement. It seemed that when faced with inevitable defeat, there were those who were willing to offer themselves in surrender, hoping that they would receive a degree of amnesty from their victorious foes. Not in this case. No, the Sivar-Eshrad called for no survivors, and Thrakhath was only too willing to follow that rule.

Scanning over the reports on his screen, he noticed that, as much resistance as the local Humans were giving them, they were receiving much more from the planet's other inhabitants; the Gungans. From all impression he had been given, they really did seem rather foolish and clumsy, and yet, they had still managed to prove themselves to be a massive pain in the hindquarters, attempting to impede their efforts at every available opportunity. Regardless, many still fell victim to the vicious claws of the Kilrathi, and Thrakhath hoped that some would still be alive when he finally got down there.

After all, what was the point of hosting something like the Sivar-Eshrad if one could not enjoy it himself, right?

His thoughts were interrupted by one of his bridge crew. "My Lord, another vessel has just entered the system."

"An enemy?"

"Negative. It is one of ours; a _Fralthi_ to be exact."

Thrakhath hummed. "A latecomer, it would seem. Very well, open communications with it."

The coms officer diligently carried out his task, and Thrakhath stepped forward to speak into the communication device. "To the _Fralthi_ -class cruiser that has just entered the system. This is Thrakhath nar Kiranka of the dreadnought _H'varkann_. I am overseeing the ceremony being conducted on this planet. Care to explain why you are so late?"

The gravely voice of another Kilrathi came over the com. "This is Ralgha nar Hhallas, the commander of the _Fralthi_ cruiser _Ras Nik'hra_. Forgive me, my Lord, we were otherwise occupied with other matters."

"What kind of matters?" Thrakhath asked.

"We had been scouting the systems surrounding Eriadu, and were on our way back when we were attack by Alliance forces. Do not worry, my Lord, none of them survived."

Thrakath paused for a few moments, taking in this information. He then gave his response. "Very well then, Lord Ralgha. You are allowed to proceed. And congratulations on successfully destroying the enemy."

"Thank you, my Lord." With that, the two Kilrathi cut transmission to each other.

Stepping back from the communicator, Thrakhath turned to a _Thrak'hra_ standing behind him; one of his most trusted lieutenants. He gave a simple order. "Get me 'Fireclaw'."

* * *

Ralgha's voice crackled through Jaina's speakers. "It appears that the Prince has brought our little ruse. You are free to proceed, Knight Solo."

"Copy that, Ralgha," Jaina replied. To the rest of her squad, she issued the rest of her orders. "Okay team, I know we haven't exactly had too much time to practice with these things, but if all goes according to plan, we won't need to get into any fights. Are you ready?"

The rest of the squad signalled their readiness. Since coming on the _Ras Nik'hra_ , Jaina and several other pilots had done their best to learn how to pilot Kilrathi fighters. The main reason given was so that they could pull off infiltration missions such as this one, but it was also felt that they would gain a better understanding of how the crafts themselves functioned. During the few spare moments that he had, Ralgha had schooled Jaina and the other seven volunteer pilots how the vehicles worked, making sure they understood it in great detail.

Ralgha also let them know that, more often than not, eight was the standard number of craft in a Kilrathi squadron, as eight was perhaps the most important number to them. They had three fingers and a thumb on each hand, making a grand total of eight, and thus their maths was a base eight, as opposed to a base ten for Humans and other species who usually had ten fingers.

Even the layout was different. Traditionally, opening the transparisteel canopy and climbing in from the top was how one accessed the cockpit. With the Dralthi fighters however, they were entered through a hatch in the bottom. Also, the seat was made of some kind of plant fibre that was woven into a mesh that was surprisingly strong. Apart from that, the controls were simple enough to understand. One drawback was that there was no ejection system. Apparently, the Kilrathi were so fanatical about not retreating or escaping when the going got tough, and actively sought death in combat, so the designers of the Dralthi obviously never bothered to install the system.

The new pilots were somewhat apprehensive of this little factor, to say the least.

Being led by Jaina, the makeshift Dralthi squadron was comprised of Zekk, Lensi, Lowbacca, Rigel, Dipper, Hammer and Vua Rapuung. With the flight groups of both of the Solo twins onboard, it was decided that the best course of action was to merge them together into one squadron. No name was given, but various suggestions were still being thrown around. Even though Lensi was still technically superior to Jaina, he accepted that she was a more acceptable commander for this particular mission.

Exiting from the hanger of the _Ras Nik'hra_ , the group eased towards the gathering of Kilrathi vessels in position over Naboo. Jaina had been at the meeting when Ralgha had decided that it would be best if he kept his cruiser a certain distance away from the rest of the fleet. That way, if any situation were to develop where they would be required to escape, then they would not take as much damage from the other craft.

Every pilot in the volunteer squadron hoped that would not eventuate. Another major drawback with the Dralthi, which they actually shared with most of the Imperial TIE fighter classes, was that it did not possess a hyperdrive, and so it would need to land back on the capital ship in order to escape. It was unsure as to whether this was because of the Kilrathi race's 'no retreat, no surrender' attitude, or they simply did not have the ability to do so - though most would be willing to bet it was the former. It did not matter to them, except that it made a harrowing job even more harrowing.

"Okay squad, keep it tight," Jaina ordered. "Let's not give these guys any reason to look at us too closely. We just need to take a few pictures and then leave." A series of seven clicks was all the response needed. They moved closer to the enemy ships, the secret cameras that had been installed taking in information about them and storing them on a hard drive. Right now, it was too dangerous to transmit them directly back to the _Ras Nik'hra_ ; there was no way of them knowing if the Kilrathi would intercept them.

Most of the pilots had read about and studied various images and reports on the kinds of ships used by the feline invaders, but seeing them up close were another matter entirely. The enemy ships did not possess the kind of symmetry commonly seen on vessels used by the Galactic Alliance, the Imperial Remnant, the Chiss Ascendancy, the Hapes Consortium, or any other known faction. If nothing else, they were a lot like Yuuzhan Vong vessels; hardly anything lined up, there were protrusions here and there, the patchwork and colouring were not always even or consistent. It seemed kind of hodge-podge, to be perfectly honest.

But none of this made the Kilrathi vessels any less dangerous. Each one of them seemed to absolutely bristle with power, and all of them were pointed at the surface of Naboo. They seemed poised above it, ready to devour it and all life on its surface at the drop of a hat.

By far the largest and most impressive, not to mention terrifying, vessel was a large grey one whose front section was shaped like a large four-pronged claw; as if it was prepared to reach out and grasp the unfortunate planet and rip its life away.

"I'm betting that whoever is in charge, that's their command ship," Hammer remarked in the stereo voice that his species was known for. However, he kept his tone low, as if speaking any higher would alert the enemy to their true presence.

"Ralgha did mention that the person in charge, Thrakhath, had a vessel just like that," Jaina confirmed. "If he's not on the surface, he'd be on that ship."

"Thrakhath," murmured Lensi. "Isn't he the Emperor's son?"

"Grandson," Zekk answered. "But from what we've heard, he's probably the baddest of them all."

Dipper spoke up next, in his usual Talz warble. "Still, if the opportunity presents itself, this should probably be our prime target. We blow that ship up, kill the Prince, and in all likelihood, turn the war back in our favour."

"And if the Prince isn't on it, we still piss him off by trashing his ship," Hammer quipped.

"Guys, knock it off!" Jaina hissed. "Now is not the time to be making jokes. One slip up, and the Kilrathi will be all over us." The coms suddenly went quiet, and Jaina assumed that meant they all got her warning.

Continuing through their mission, the pilots were amazed, not to mention relieved, that nobody had bothered them at all. It seemed that they were all too busy with their own matters to notices a squadron of Dralthi fighters errantly making their way through the fleet. They continued to scan and log the number of corvettes, cruisers, carriers and destroyers.

Just when Jaina thought that they were about done, her blood started to go cold when she noticed another flight of Dralthis making their way directly towards her. "Heads up, guys," she said into the com. "We've got another squad heading towards us. Do _not_ make any sudden moves." The way she delivered it left no room for dispute, though she still heard a nervous curse from Rigel.

The other squad, consisting of just four Dralthis, pulled up alongside hers. Over the speaker, Jaina heard some rough growls. Though she herself had not learned how to speak the Kilrathi tongue, she still had her abilities with the Force. Stretching out tentatively, she discerned that the Kilrathi was simply demanding an explanation as to what she was doing out here. Nothing more.

Though she had engaged the Kilrathi numerous times over the past year or so, and had thus gained a basic understanding of how their mindset worked, Jaina had never managed to touch the mind of one of them in this way before, and she was stunned at what she found.

In the past, whenever she had reached out with the Force during a space combat mission, Jaina had managed to feel what her enemy was feeling. During the Yuuzhan Vong War, this had been impossible, since that species existed completely outside the Force; a fact that she still found unsettling, even with Vua Rapuung on her squad. When dealing with their allies, the Peace Brigade, however, she had more success. They saw her as the enemy, and even though there were some that hated the Jedi, most were mainly concerned with survival. It was more or less the same when dealing with various pirate groups, mercenaries and so on.

With the Kilrathi, however, there was no shortage of emotion. They practically _seethed_ with anger non-stop. They wanted nothing more than to conquer and burn worlds, and to gain honour in combat. They also had the incessant wish to find someone who could best them in combat and send them to meet Sivar firsthand. In fact, the only ones who did not display these were Ralgha and Kirha, and even then, they were still there in the background. It was disconcerting, to say the least.

Pushing back these thoughts, Jaina sent back feelings towards the Kilrathi pilot, giving him the impression that there was nothing to see here, that all was normal, and Jaina's group was doing nothing out of the ordinary. Since she could not speak the Kilrathi language, this was the only option available for her. Holding her breath, she felt her mental response seep into the Kilrathi's mind, and he started to accept the answer.

After what seemed like an eternity, the pilot gave a response akin to 'very well, carry on', then angled his craft away from them, his wingmen following him.

In the speakers, Jaina could hear audible sighs of relief from the rest of her squad. "That was _way_ too close," remarked Lensi. A short growl from Lowbacca indicated that the Wookiee agreed with him.

"I think I may need a change of underwear," Rigel remarked.

"We're not out of the woods yet," Jaina spoke up. "We just need to fly by some other craft, then we can head for home." The others all voiced their confirmation, though their reluctance was all too evident. The brush with the other Dralthi flight had been far too close for comfort, and actually served to sap much of their confidence.

Looking ahead, the pilots all spotted a grouping of a couple more Kilrathi capital ships, seeming almost like a finish line, after which they would return to the safety of their own ship; the irony of it being _another_ Kilrathi vessel was not lost on any of them.

Then something happened that none of them expected or had prepared for. A single Dralthi flew ahead of them, then performed what only be described as a burnout, spinning around 180 degrees, then gunning the engines and heading straight for Jaina's squadron. At the same instant, another flight of Dralthi fighters appeared from behind one of the _Snakeir_ carriers, following the strangely talented leader.

A warning flashed through Jaina's mind, and a split second later, the lead Dralthi opened fire.

"Evasive manoeuvres," she screamed into her com channel, pitching her craft to starboard. Most of the others in her squad were quick to heed her advice and they managed to get out of dodge before it was too late.

Unfortunately, Rigel was not quick enough. Deadly laser bolts raked across his borrowed Dralthi, and the youth from Coruscant had only enough time to let out a brief cry of surprise and anguish before his craft exploded.

"Shit, we lost Rigel!" Lensi cursed loudly.

"There on to us," Jaina commanded. "Everyone make their way back to base!" She turned her craft towards the _Ras Nik'hra_ and gunned its engines, the others doing the same. The hostile Dralthi followed.

Most of the enemy craft seemed to be piloted by Kilrathi whose skills were mediocre, but the leader of this particular squadron, the one who had done the impressive burnout and who had taken out Rigel, was obviously more talented. He knew how to handle his craft, and was a decent shot as well. During the chase, he fired off several bolts, at least half of which found targets. None of them proved to be fatal, but they were still enough to give the pilots worry.

"My shields are dropping," Vua reported.

"Mine too," called out Hammer.

"And mine," added Dipper.

Jaina cursed under her breath. She had already lost one pilot today, and she would not let another one die on her watch. Thinking as quickly as she could, she formulated a plan. Not the best one, but perhaps the only possible one at the moment. "Okay, listen up. Zekk and Lowie, you guys are on me. Remember the loop we tried at Bespin? We'll do it here. Everyone else, continue towards the _Ras Nik'hra_ while we deal with the pursuers."

"Are you crazy?" cried Lensi. "I know you guys are Jedi, but do you really think you can tackle a problem like this?"

"Don't worry about us, we can handle it," Zekk told him firmly. Over the Force, Jaina sent him a brief thanks, but privately wondered if she was indeed overestimating their chances. She shook her head and focused on her task, allowing her consciousness to join with that oif Zekk and Lowbacca.

The three Jedi waited for a few seconds, and then made their move. At the same instant, Jaina and Zekk pulled upward, while Lowbacca went down. They all looped around and found themselves in a perfect position to open fire on the pursuing Dralthis, from above and below. Opening firing, they raked the enemy craft with laser blasts, scoring two kills each. Not only that, but the rest of the squad turned around to deal with the sudden attack, leaving the rest of Jaina's squadron free to return home unimpeded.

"(It looks like our plan worked,)" Lowbacca commented in his growling voive.

"Yeah, but now _our_ asses are on the line!" Zekk remarked.

"Then let's deal with them and then go home," Jaina stated almost casually. The three Jedi brought their craft around and began looking for the others. There were only four hostiles left; a relatively even fight. In less than a minute, they had scored one kill each, leaving just one.

There was just one problem: this was the ace that had performed the burnout, and he was definitely talented. Jaina kept biting back curses as she did her best to get this one into her sights for that final killing shot. At the moment, he was lined up behind Zekk, and Jaina used his distraction to get him into her sights. Finally locked on, she felt her finger just start to squeeze the trigger…

"(Reinforcements!), Lowbacca suddenly growled.

Jaina spared a quick second to look at the screen, just in time to see more symbols indicating enemy fighters appear on it. Unfortunately, that was the moment when the Kilrathi chose to open fire on Zekk. The young Human managed to jerk out of the way before his Dralthi was destroyed, but not quickly enough to prevent getting damaged.

"I'm hit!" Zekk cried.

At once, Jaina snapped back to attention and opened fire on the Kilrathi. Unfortunately, he had decided that he had caused enough damage, and was angling his craft back towards the fleet. Jaina's shots missed and she swore violently at her enemy's retreating profile.

Despite the fact that every fibre of Jaina's being wanted her to chase after the Kilrathi and kill him, she knew that she could not abandon Zekk in this way. Heading after him, she noticed that his own fighter was taking him on a course that would lead him straight down to the surface of Naboo.

"Zekk, are you all right?" Jaina cried.

"I'm fine," Zekk managed to grunt, "but my controls are shot to hell. I've got no weapons, no shields, and my stick is not responding!"

"Just hang on, we'll get you out of here."

"(What about the reinforcements heading our way?)" Lowbacca suddenly growled. Jaina looked back at the screen. The enemy had launched another swarm of fighters at them; one that was much more sizeable than the group they had dealt with. It consisted of more Dralthi fighters, as well as Salthi light fighters and Krant bombers, and it numbered in the dozens. They had barely managed to survive this previous encounter, there was no way they would survive this one.

But, looking at and analysing the current situation, it seemed that there was no way they could bail out Zekk, either. The Dralthi did not have an ejection system. The only way they could save Zekk would be if they towed him back, and that would only slow them down and allow the enemy to catch up to them.

Jaina knew this, and she could only feel a sense of hopelessness.

Zekk also knew this, and it was his voice that snapped her out of it. "Listen, Jaina, you have to leave me here. I still have enough command of my ship to land on the surface. If I make it, then you can pick me up later."

"You want me to leave you on an enemy-occupied planet?" Jaina asked incredulously. "Zekk, you've heard what the Kilrathi are doing here! If they find you…"

"Then I'll stay out of sight," Zekk interrupted firmly. "I've faced off against worse than this. Besides, the locals could do with a hand from a Jedi. If nothing else, I can help them fight back. But if you get killed over me, then I will never forgive myself."

"But Zekk…"

"Jaina, please just _go_ already! You want to help me out, then come back with a massive attack force and drive these bastards from the planet!" The firmness and finality in his voice finally prompted Jaina into action. Reaching out with the Force, she sent a feeling of calming reassurance to her best friend, promising him that they would be back soon. Zekk sent back a thank you, and then his mentality became that of hard focus as he struggled to get his craft under enough control for a decent landing.

Swallowing back the lump in her throat, Jaina addressed her Wookiee companion. "Come on, Lowie. There's nothing more we can do here. Let's get back on board the ship and jump out of here."

* * *

On board the bridge of the _H'varkann_ , Thrakhath watched as the _Ras Nik'hra_ jumped into hyperspace. Though he permitted himself a victorious grin, on the inside he felt sick. One of his own people had betrayed them. Had joined their enemies, this accursed Galactic Alliance. Ralgha nar Hhallas had turned his back on the glorious crusade, the neverending quest for glory and honour one sought in battle, and instead had joined the very vermin they had set out to dominate. It made his skin crawl.

Thrakhath pushed these thoughts from his head. Regardless of what Ralgha had done, he had scored some measure of retribution by destroying some of his craft. Of course, the number of loyal Kilrathi taken out would be higher, but as far as Thrakhath was concerned, that was a small price to pay. Turning on the screen, he addressed the pilot who had shot down two of the enemy craft.

Najji nar Ragitagha was commonly known by the callsign of 'Fireclaw'. He had a tendancy to burnout and suddenly come about in a spectacular 180-degree turn and engage enemy fighters head on. A bit of a rough individual and a show-off, but probably the sort of individual needed to lead their fighter squadrons.

"Your skills appear to be slipping, Fireclaw," Thrakhath admonished. "Of all those enemy fighters, you only managed to destroy two of them?"

"I assure you, my Lord," Fireclaw replied, "There were those in the squadron who were more talented than the rest. In fact, I am willing to believe that some were those elemental warriors we have heard so much about."

Thrakhath furrowed his brow. "You mean the Jedi?"

"Yes, my Lord, the Jedi. I also believe that one of my victims was a Jedi."

"Ah, now would that be the one whose kill you _didn't_ confirm? The one who was sent flying down to the planet's surface with their tail aflame? For all we know, they could have survived the crash, and if they were a Jedi, then that could cause a lot of potential problems during our occupation of this world." His voice had a taunting air to it. He was baiting the pilot.

To Fireclaw's credit, he did not rise up. Instead, he responded in an even tone. "With all due respect, my Lord, if that pilot is still alive, then Jedi or not, we will deal with it in due course." He paused before continuing. "If I may speak freely sir, I am interested as to how you knew that Ralgha nar Hhallas had defected."

Thrakhath visibly turned his lip up. "I am second in line to the Throne of Kilrah," he replied simply. "There is hardly a thing that occurs in our great empire that does not go past the notice of myself, or my father and grandfather. I have been keeping an eye on Lord Ralgha for months now, and I suspected that he would eventually make his move in this manner." He settled his face back into a more neutral visage. "Regardless, you have performed admirably. At least now our brethren understand the price of betrayal."

On the screen, Fireclaw inclined his head slightly. "I live to serve the Empire, my Lord."

This was all the response that Thrakhath needed, and he promptly signed off.

* * *

 **Fralthi-class cruiser** _ **Ras Nik'hra**_

 **In hyperspace on vector away from Naboo**

Jacen Solo sprinted towards the hanger, dodging fellow GA service personnel along the way, as well as to duck, dodge and jump over the occasional object that littered the hallway and the odd protrusion that would not have been there on most other class of ship. _Seriously_ , he thought as he ran, _somebody is going to have to teach these Kilrathi how to build their ships properly_.

Entering the hanger, Jacen was just in time to spot the six remaining members of the infiltration group clamber down from their borrowed Drathis. The young man had to admit that it was quite disheartening to notice that two of them had not made it back alive. Even more so when he took into account that one of them was his good friend Zekk.

Looking around, Jacen was able to spot his twin sister exiting her craft and fumbling with the strap on her flight helmet. Her frustrated movements when performing this usually simple task, along with her aggrevated posture, and the radiating anger that Jacen easily caught through the twin bond they had shared since before they were born, told him that she was _extremely_ pissed off at the moment. So much so that if anyone was to cross her the wrong way at this point, there was a strong possibility that she would try to murder them.

Jaina finally managed to get the helmet off her head, and took a few determined steps in her brother's direction. "Where is he?" she snapped, throwing her helmet to the ground angrily.

Jacen was taken aback for a second. "Where is who?" he asked tentatively.

Jaina's eyes blazed. "That damn cat who supposedly runs this bucket of bolts! Ralgha, or whatever the hell his name is!"

Jacen hesitated for a second, wondering what he should tell his twin sister. Initially, he contemplated trying to placate her, but he knew Jaina better than anyone else in the entire galaxy, and he knew what she could be like when she got in this kind of mood. Eventually, he simply replied, "On the bridge," and stepped back to allow her to storm past.

Following behind his fuming sister, Jacen could positively feel the anger simply radiating off her. Hoping that nothing bad would eventuate, he attempted to reason with her before they reached her destination. Jaina punched the controls for the lift and stood back while she waited impatiently for it to arrive, her arms crossed over her chest.

Jacen attemped to calm her down. "Jaina, we all knew before we started that your mission was dangerous. We knew that there was a good chance that the Kilrathi would have wised up to you and then come after you. It's not your fault, so don't blame yourself."

"I'm not," Jaina replied acidly, barely glancing at him. "I blame this Kilrathi that showed up, announcing that he wishes to defect. Hasn't experience taught us that we can't trust our enemies?" The lift had not arrived, so she angrily puched the call button for the lift again, apparently to no avail. "Argh! They can't even build a ship that works properly! Where the hell are the stairs?!" Walking away from the lift, she headed for the stairwell that would lead up to the bridge.

Jacen continued his attempt at talking some sense into her. "Jaina, that's just your anger talking. You were more than willing to trust the Yuuzhan Vong who defected over to our side. Hell, you've even got one of them in your squadron now!" Here, the twins had entered the dingy stairwell, and had started their ascent; Jaina still in the lead and fuming with anger, and Jacen still behind her, trying to get her to calm down. "You know what I think this is? I think you're just more pissed off than you usually are because you lost someone close to you! Someone you really care about."

Jacen's words finally struck home, and Jaina stopped on the stairs. A few seconds passed, then the young woman's head dropped down with a sigh. She leaned against the wall and crossed her arms, her head still looking downwards. Jacen knew this as one of her 'thinking' or 'contemplating' poses.

"You know something?" Jaina spoke up. "Unlike Rigel, I actually know for a fact that Zekk is alive. I know that he survived his crash on the planet, and that he will try to get back to us somehow. I mean, he lived on the streets of Coruscant before he became a Jedi." Jacen nodded in agreement. "And even then, before he joined our Academy, he was a Dark Jedi and then a bounty hunter. I _know_ he can look after himself."

Jacen shrugged. "He's a tough guy," he commented casually.

Jaina nodded. "I know all this, and yet, that doesn't change the fact that I am so angry over the whole damn situation." Despite her fury, her words now sounded more resigned than anything else.

Jacen let off a sigh of his own and placed a hand on his sister's shoulder. "Welcome to real life, sis. You know how it was like after we lost Anakin. Even though we won that war just a few months later, I still felt that nothing would ever be right again. That the protective bubble we had around us had finally popped, and all the bad stuff would just come rushing in. I felt responsible that I was unable to protect our brother, and I know you did as well."

Jaina spared her twin a glance. There was no denying that he had hit upon some hard truths there.

Jacen continued. "But eventually I realised that it was not my fault. It was nobody's fault. Anakin had made his choice, and the effects were that we were able to defeat the Yuuzhan Vong and bring about the end of the war much earlier than we originally thought. And I'm sure he would have been okay with that." He took his hand down and looked intently at Jaina. "Zekk did the same thing. If you had not left, then the both of you could have been captured or killed. But he told you to leave because he cared about you too much to let that happen. The only major difference is that we have a chance to rescue him, which we can do once we take back the planet."

" _If_ we take back the planet," Jaina huffed.

"Now that's just being defeatist," Jacen said. "The Jaina Solo that I know is usually a bit more optimistic than that." Here Jaina rolled her eyes, but she also had the ghost of a smile on her face.

"All right," Jaina said, uncrossing her arms and holding her hands up in a surrnder gesture. "I won't get in Ralgha's face. Provided, of course, he has a good explanation."

"Well, that's good enough, I suppose," Jacen said brightly, putting an arm around his sister's shoulders and leading her up the stairs towards the bridge.

Her anger had mostly subsided but still continued to simmer as the two of them entered the bridge. Sensing this, Jacen wisely chose to take his arm from around her shoulder, and let her once again walk ahead of him.

Standing in the position of authority he usually occupied, Ralgha either seemed oblivious to the young woman's irritation, or simply chose to ignore it. "Jaina Solo, I trust you are still in good condition after that little incident," he said urbanely.

Jaina came to a stop in front of the Kilrathi noble, seeming to be absolutely dwarfed by his height, and yet not the slightest bit cowed or intimidated by it. "I am," she replied cordially, but still with an acidic edge to it, "as are _most_ of my squadron." She put heavy emphasis on the 'most'.

Ralgha inclined his head. "I am truly sorry for your losses," he said sincerely. "I had suspected that Prince Thrakhath might have known about my intention to defect, and would have sent someone to deal with you. I only hope that you do not hold it against me."

His regret seemed quite sincere, so Jaina was forced to reach inside herself and ensure that she had managed to get the simmering remnants of her previous rage under control. When she spoke up again, it was in an even voice. "That someone that he sent was most likely an ace pilot. I don't suppose you know him?"

"I might," Ralgha answered. "I am familiar with a number of the more experienced Kilrathi pilots. Is there anything about this particular pilot that stood out? Any tactics he might have used?"

Jaina related her encounter with the hotshot pilot who had led the ambush on her squadron. How he had performed a 180-degree burnout in space before heading straight on at them, weapons blazing. Afterwards, Ralgha tilted his large head in deep thought.

"Hmm, that sounds an awful lot like Fireclaw."

"Fireclaw?"

"His real name is Najji nar Ragitagha. But he has achieved notoriety amongst the Kilrathi pilots for his tendency to do those tricks that you mentioned. A bit hotheaded, but talented nonetheless. I have never actually met him, but I of course know about him for one obvious reason."

"What reason is that?" Jacen asked, coming up to stand next to his sister.

"We are members of the same _hrai_ , or clan, to put it in your language," Ralgha explained. "Kilrathi society is divided into eight different clans, each at varying levels of nobility. The current ruling family are from the Kiranka, so that makes them the noblest and most influential. The other seven are the Ragitagha, Qarg, Caxki, Ki'ra, Kurutak, Sutagi and Sikhag."

"So why isn't your clan one of them?" Jacen asked.

"The Hhallas are not one of the original Nobles Clans; merely an offshoot of one. Most of the clans very rarely mate outside their lines, so as to preserve their blood purity. The Ragitagha _hrai_ is an exception to this, and this has resulted in them being one of the most widespread, and the root of several offshoot clans, including my own."

"So that's how you know about this Fireclaw guy; he's sort of family?" Jacen asked.

Ralgha shrugged in response. "In a very distant sense."

Jaina threw her hands up in frustration. "Well, family or no, this guy ambushed my squad. And now Rigel is dead and Zekk is missing in action. So whatever plan you guys have to take back Naboo, you had better do it fast, okay?" Without waiting for a response, she spun on her heel and stormed off towards the bridge exit. Jacen and Ralgha simply stood and watched her go.

A few tenuous seconds after the young woman left, Ralgha turned to the young man that remained standing next to him. "I must confess," he said, "I still have trouble understanding people from other species. But what assurances does your sister have that the male who is missing is still alive?"

Jacen looked at the Kilrathi. "Numerous reasons," he answered. "Firstly, because if he had died, we would almost certainly have felt it in the Force."

Ralgha seemed surprised by this little tidbit of information. "Are you Jedi and the Force that you use truly that powerful?"

"Sometimes," Jacen admitted. "It also depends on how experienced we are. Also, we know Zekk very well; he's a longtime friend of ours. He's had it tougher than most people I know, and he still manages to come through, so I'd say his survival chances are pretty good."

Ralgha hummed as he processed this information. "This young Human, Zekk – your sister cares about him a great deal, doesn't she?"

"Yes, but good luck trying to get her to admit to such a thing. Sometimes she is a little too stubborn for her own good." With that, Jacen started to walk away.

Still curious, Ralgha called out his next query to the Jedi's retreating back. "Is that a Human trait, or a Jedi one?"

"More of a Jaina Solo one, actually," Jacen called back over his shoulder before disappearing through the doorway.

Once again by himself, the only thing that Ralgha nar Hhallas could think was, _Clearly, I have a lot to learn about these people._

* * *

 **Well, Rigel is dead. But he's an OC, so no biggie, right?**

 **And don't worry, Zekk's a tough guy. He'll be alright.**

 **For the record, I thought the authors of the NJO-Legacy novels always seemed to give the guy a raw deal. Actually, they did that with all of the YJK characters, especially in LOTF.**

 **If I ever meet Troy Denning in person, I am going to hound him so badly...**


	15. Naboo II

**This is a relatively short chapter, and it focuses on one of my more favourite characters from the _Young Jedi Knights_ series.**

* * *

 **CHAPTER FOURTEEN**

 **x**

 **x**

 ** **Somewhere on the surface of Kilrathi-occupied Naboo****

The Sivar-Eshrad had been well underway for several days now, and the bodies were just starting to pile up. However, word of the recent skirmish in orbit above the planet had nonetheless filtered down through the ranks, and this included the small detail of a captured Dralthi fighter piloted by one of the enemy being shot down and crashing on the surface. Thrakhath knew how important the ceremony was, but did not want to take any chances in leaving an enemy pilot left alive on the planet's surface, particularly if that individual took it upon himself or herself to cause havoc and disrupt the ceremony. Especially if that particular individual was indeed a Jedi.

After determining where the Dralthi had crashed, Thrakhath had contacted the forces nearest to the site and tasked the commander with investigating the wreckage, and to kill the pilot if they were not already dead.

The commander was originally frustrated at spending even the slightest amount of time away from participating in the Sivar-Eshrad, but decided it might be worth it if the pilot was a Jedi. The elemental warriors had gained great notoriety since the beginning of the war, and the chance to exact bloody retribution on one of them would indeed be quite tempting.

* * *

 _Definitely not the best landing I've ever had_ , Zekk thought to himself as he struggled to block out the pain. _Would have been even a little bit easier if the Kilrathi had any kind of safety measures in these deathtraps, but no, they're all about this whole 'death before dishonour' crap._ Pushing these thoughts out of his head, Zekk tried his best to clear his vision and assess his current situation.

The Dralthi was definitely a total write-off. The fuselage was totally bent out of shape, wiring was exposed and yanked out of every imaginable port. Also, there were two different kinds of liquid splattered around the cockpit. One was a sickly brown colour and possessed a foul industrial odour; obviously the fuel that the Kilrathi used for their fighters. The other was a dark red, and was over much of the flight controls. Unsure what it was, Zekk took some on his pinky finger and sniffed it, then placed it on the tip of his tongue. The salty tang made him realise that it was blood. Specifically, _his_ blood.

Gently touching his forehead, Zekk realised he now had a huge gash there, caused when he had smacked his head against the controls on impact. That was also the explanation for him blacking out temporarily, and the splitting migraine he was still experiencing.

Zekk brought his left arm around in order to tear off strips of fabric from the sleeve to make a bandage for his head, and received a surprise when he noticed that his arm seemed to be bent in a way that arms typically did not bend. At least, not Human arms. Gently pulling back the sleeve, he saw that the limb was grotesquely contorted at the elbow, but there were no open wounds and no bones piercing through the skin. It was not broken, merely dislocated.

Fortunately for Zekk, this was not the first time he had received this kind of wound, so he knew how to deal with it. He placed his wrist between his knees and pushed them together, holding the end of the limb firmly in place. Then, after taking a deep breath, he jolted his shoulder and upper arm forward. A sickly popping sound was heard as the elbow snapped back into place.

Taking a few seconds to allow the pain to subside, Zekk wriggled the fingers on his left hand to ensure he still had full use and feeling of them, then set about tearing off the sleeve of his flight suit and fashioning a makeshift bandage for the gash on his forehead. After a couple of minutes, he finally got it, making it look almost as though he was wearing a headband.

 _Okay, now to get the hell out of here_ , Zekk mused. He figured that the Kilrathi saw where he crashed, and in all likelihood, they sent someone to investigate it; either to get a prisoner, or ensure there were no survivors. Either way, he had no intention of sticking around to find out. Taking stock of his inventory, he saw that his lightsaber was still intact, and the provisions that he had been supplied with at the start of the mission were still in his possession.

Peering through the shattered front viewscreen, Zekk saw that he had come down in a lightly forested area. The trees had ripped through the vessel's canopy, even coming close to shearing the right wing clean off. Dusk was approaching, which meant that he would be able to move under cover of night relatively undetected.

Leaning forward, Zekk began twisting and turning a few knobs and dials on the Dralthi's radio. Though primitive compared to those found on Alliance craft, it was still relatively easy to understand and use. It was a bit of a gamble, and not one that was guaranteed to work, but Zekk figured that the Kilrathi on the surface were still using communication devices to stay in touch with each other. And in order for that to work, they would have to be set on the same frequency. The fighter's radio had recently been configured to Alliance channels, but the original settings should still be there.

Paydirt! Zekk managed to tap into the com channels of the Kilrathi. Though he still did not understand what they were saying, he nonetheless managed to extrapolate the position and heading of nearby units on the ground. Most seemed to be focused on the sick ritualistic slaughter of their ceremony, but there was indeed one squad that was gradually making their way towards the crashed Dralthi.

A series of thoughts ran through Zekk's mind, and he quickly came up with an idea…

* * *

The commander of the group sent to investigate the crashed Dralthi had to admit, he would much rather be back leading the slaughter against the inhabitants of this planet. The Sivar-Eshrad had only been going on for the last couple of days, but had already ammased an impressive number of sacrifices. Many had been the Humans who had colonised this planet and referred to themselves as the Naboo, but most had actually been members of that bizarre amphibian species that inhabited the waterways and grottos beneath the surface of the lakes and oceans.

Upon first encountering the strange beings, the Kilrathi had been struck by their apparently clumsy behaviour. Originally, they assumed that the Gungans would be easy prey, but it quickly turned out that their clumsy appearances belied their nature as warriors. Their style of fighting was very different from that of the Kilrathi, no doubt about that, but they were warriors nonetheless. As a result, the Gungans had proven to be more of a hassle than originally thought. Quite a number of Kilrathi had actually fallen in battle against these creatures.

Naturally, this called for retribution, and the Kilrathi had stepped up their slaughter against them and the Humans of Naboo. Both groups had been tenacious, there was no denying that, but that simply made their sacrifices to Sivar more appealing. After all, the War God favoured the souls of warriors.

But then came word that a Dralthi piloted by an enemy pilot had crashed on the surface. The exact reason as to how they had gotten their hands on the craft was not released, but nonetheless, it was imperative that the craft was located and the pilot killed as soon as possible. This order had come from the Crown Prince himself, and such a command was well worth taking some time out from the Eshrad. There would be plenty more victims to slaughter later on.

If only those under his command would think like that, instead of constantly grunting and growling in complaint. The commander turned around and barked out an order for them to shut up and focus on the task at hand. Without waiting for a response, he turned back around and continued walking, ignoring the grumbles from his subordinates. He wished that he had been assigned fellow _Thrak'hra_ on this mission, instead of being saddled with these four incompetent _Kilra'hra_ who would not stop whining.

The commander's woes were forgotten as the tracking device in his hand gave off a sudden beep, and he felt the fur on the back of his neck rise in anticipation. The crashed Dralthi was just up ahead!

It was approaching dusk, and the dimming light made it a little difficult to navigate through the dense foliage of the forest. The commander found that to be another irritating issue. He much rather preferred the wide, open arid plains of Kilrah. Trees offered enemies protection, particularly when bunched together in great numbers like this.

Coming through a crop of trees, the commander felt a smile spread across his leonine features as he spotted the crashed Dralthi. Behind him, he could hear those in his group make their own exclamations at the sight of the target. Of course, if the pilot was still alive, the commander had no intention of letting his subordinates have the pleasure of finishing them off.

Looking back over his shoulder, the commander gave his brusque orders. "Search the vessel, and if the pilot is still alive, then bring them to me." He could tell that the others bristled at his order, each one wanting to score the kill themselves, but they knew better than to ask.

The other four Kilrathi swarmed around and over the totalled Dralthi, two of them climbing up to look into the cockpit. After looking, one of them turned back towards the commander. "The pilot is not inside the craft."

The commander's brow raised in surprise. "They are just gone?"

"Wait," said the other one peeking inside the cockpit. "There appears to be something in here. It looks like… oh _vraxar_!" He struggled to extricate himself from the cockpit, but he did not get far. Less than a second later, a massive explosion erupted from the cockpit, engulfing the entire Dralthi and the four Kilrathi searching it. The commander was not caught in the blast, but the shock wave knocked him off his feet.

Propping his head up to look back, all he could see was flaming wreckage and the burning corpses of those in his squad. He rolled to his left side in order to better push himself up, when he noticed a single figure moving towards him in very determined steps.

The individual was a Human male, with pale skin and long black hair. He wore a flight suit typically sported by those in the Galactic Alliance, except that one of the sleeves appeared to have been torn off and fastened around his head like a bandage. He exuded confidence and displayed no fear.

Growling at the very thought of being taken by surprise, the commander launched himself to his feet. Blinded by fury, he raced forward, his claws extended, ready to rip the Human's throat out and offer it up to Sivar.

It was not until the last second that he noticed the man held a metal cylinder. When he pressed the button on the side, a fiery orange blade lanced out, and the man swung the blade at the commander…

The lightsaber blade passed cleanly through the Kilrathi's midsection, and he went sprawling past Zekk to fall on the ground in two separate pieces. The young Jedi held the weapon aloft in his hand for a few seconds, his finely tuned senses scanning the surrounding area. When it became apparent that no other enemies were around, he deactivated the blade, and clipped the cylinder back on his waist.

It had been no easy task to rig the Dralthi's fuel tanks to explode, but fortunately Zekk was a resourceful individual. The good news was he had survived and effectively destroyed the evidence of his crash, taking out five enemies in the process. The bad news was that he was stuck on a planet crawling with the enemy, and he had no way of getting back. Even if he managed to acquire transport, there was no guarantee of getting through their blockade.

 _Calm down, Zekk_ , he thought. _Panicking is not going to help you out in this situation_. He took a moment to think through his options. He knew that the Kilrathi were in various areas on the surface, and were attacking the populace for the purposes of their sick ritualistic slaughter. It seemed natural that they would concentrate their attacks on major population centres. Going to one of those would be risky, as he would most likely be heading straight into the enemy's camp. However, it was also highly likely that the locals would be defending them heavily. Not only that, but there would most likely be transport there, which could be used to get off the planet.

 _And even if there isn't, then these guys could probably use a Jedi's help_ , Zekk added as an afterthought. He knew that the planetary capital of Theed was nearby, so it seemed like a logical place to start.

Despite the fact that his body needed rest, Zekk knew that it was best to move under cover of night, so as to avoid the Kilrathi patrols. _Looks like the darkness will be my friend_ , he thought with a hint of irony as he headed in the direction of Theed.

* * *

 **Glossary of Kilrathi terms used in this chapter:**

 ** _Vraxar - A wish of damnation upon occurrences. Basically, 'crap!' or something like that._**

* * *

 **So now Zekk is trapped alone on an enemy-occupied planet. Don't worry; he used to survive on his own in the underbelly of Coruscant. He'll be fine.**


	16. Vendaxa I

**For this chapter, I just opened up the _Star Wars_ atlas and randomly chose a system, which just happened to be Vendaxa.**

* * *

 **CHAPTER FIFTEEN**

 **x**

 **x**

 **Galactic Alliance Star Destroyer** _ **Dragon's Claw**_

 **Vendaxa system**

No matter how hard she tried, Jaina Solo could not stop herself from worrying, and that just caused her to slowly pace in a lazy circle around a relatively small section of the hanger floor. The last few days had just been hell, filled with little more than half-baked ideas that resulted in another pilot getting blown out of the sky, and another one being shot down on a planet overrun by the enemy. Not only that, but the missing pilot in question was her best friend.

 _And constantly worrying about it is not going to help you rescue him any quicker_ , Jaina berated herself. _Nor will going into battle completely pissed off, so do yourself a favour, and call the hell down!_

Jaina stopped in her pacing to take a deep breath. Amazingly, she actually felt herself calm down a little. She was here simply to greet their latest guests, and it would do no good if she were all worked up over something that she could do nothing about for the moment.

Almost as if bidden, the sleek vessel that she was waiting for, the _Jade Shadow_ , flew up into the Star Destroyer's hanger, passing easily through the energy field protecting it from the vacuum of space, and set down gently on the deck. The vessel powered down, and the ramp dropped. Jaina drew herself up straight, and she felt a genuine smile break out on her face as she saw the two figures make their way down the ramp.

Decked out in Jedi robes, Luke and Mara carried themselves with an air of confidence, honed by many years of being both Jedi Masters, and figureheads of both the New Republic and the Galactic Alliance. Through it all, their love and affection for their family continued to shine.

Jaina stepped forward into Mara's embrace. Luke hung back for a second to let the two women have their moment, then stepped forward to give his niece a hug of his ow. The two had been a great influence on Jaina. Luke had been her instructor at the Academy on Yavin 4, and Mara had taken her as her apprentice shortly before the Yuuzhan Vong attacked. The two of them had developed a close sisterly relationship, and during that war, they had undertaken quite a few missions together.

Pulling back, Mara looked back at her niece. "You're looking good, Jaina."

Jaina gave a wan smile. "I wish I felt good too. Things have not been going that well for us lately."

Luke nodded. "We heard about what happened at Naboo. It would be a shame to lose Zekk. He was one of my best students."

"Not to mention Jaina's special friend," Mara added slyly with a wink to her husband.

"Aunt Mara!" Jaina cried, a blush rapidly spreading across her face. While she was embarrassed, she was still grateful that her aunt's light ribbing had managed to make her feel less crappy than before.

Luke shook his head, not bothering to hide the wide smile. "Come on," he said to the two women, "let's go meet up with the rest of the family." He placed one arm around his wife, and the other around his niece, leading them up to the bridge.

As they walked, Jaina decided to change the topic. "So, how's Ben going?"

"He's fine," Luke answered. "Corran and Mirax are looking after him and a bunch of other kids at the Maw."

"Probably the best place to put them actually," Mara added. "The Kilrathi don't know where it is, and even if they do, there's a chance they may not know it's surrounded by a bunch of black holes. No wonder Daala kept her base there for so long."

Jaina chuckled, seeing an opportunity to get back at Mara for her previous remark. "If I were you guys, I'd probably be less worried about the possibility of a Kilrathi attack, and more about your son acting around the Horn's daughter."

"Jaina!" Mara admonished. "He's only seven years old!"

"And she's eleven," Luke added. "That's four years older."

Jaina snorted. "Oh come on! It seems pretty obvious that Ben has a crush on Jysella, and besides, Anakin Skywalker was five years older than his wife, and from what we've heard, he fell in love with her when they first met. And he was nine when that happened!"

"Still," Mara countered, "that's no reason to go playing matchmaker with them just yet."

"Fine," Jaina sighed, throwing up her free hand in exaggerated frustration.

"Speaking of romance," Luke continued, "I understand Her Royal Highness, the Crown Princess of the Hapes Consortium arrived recently. Have she and your twin brother been spending any time together recently?"

"Are you kidding?" Jaina chuckled again as they reached the lift. "She arrived a few hours ago, and she and Jacen disappeared together almost immediately afterwards. They haven't been seen since."

* * *

Jacen Solo had only just started to doze when he was snapped back out of it by a sharp knocking on his door. Grunting softly, he called out, "Who is it?"

"It's me, numbnuts!" a feminine voice came from the other side, which Jacen instantly recognised as belonging to Tahiri. "We're about to have our little pow-wow and they want us all in the briefing room." Judging from the underlying tone in her voice, it was apparent that Tahiri knew all too well what she had interrupted when she knocked on the door.

"I'll be there in a few minutes," Jacen replied.

"Don't you mean 'we'?" Tahiri replied with a giggle. Jacen was about to reply, but the receding footsteps indicated the young woman had already started to leave.

Suppressing another groan, Jacen looked down at the figure that was currently sharing his bed. She had also been awoken by Tahiri's actions, but had remained lying down, and at least looked as though she had not been bothered that much.

Even after all this time, Tenel Ka still managed to take Jacen's breath away. Her muscular but feminine physique, the smooth haunting beauty of her face, her slate grey eyes and her long flowing red hair. Everything about her caused his breath to catch, and he wondered how he had managed to get so lucky in winning the heart of such a beautiful woman.

"You are stalling for time, Jacen," Tenel Ka chastised. "I believe they want us in the briefing room as soon as possible."

Jacen gave a soft chuckle and a slight grin in response. "Sorry, it's just so hard to keep focused on such a task when I'm constantly being distracted by something as beautiful and breathtaking as you."

Tenel Ka gave a derisive snort, but there was no mistaking the ghost of a smile on her face as she sat up, clutching the sheet around her naked torso. She would never have admitted it out loud to anyone, but she often found herself wondering how she managed to have such a handsome and wonderful man as her beloved. His rugged good looks and enchanting brown eyes alone were enough to captivate her.

The two young Jedi set about putting their clothes back on. For the most part it was done so in silence until Jacen spoke up. "So, have the nobles been causing you any more trouble?"

"Not as much as we thought," Tenel Ka answered as she continued to redress in her lizard hide armour. "Although my grandmother is still managing to make her opinions known, even from her imprisonment."

"If you ask me, it's not really much of an imprisonment," Jacen commented.

During the Yuuzhan Vong War, Tenel Ka's grandmother Ta'a Chume had attempted to assassinate her daughter-in-law; Tenel Ka's mother. Fortunately, the Jedi had managed to arrive in time, and the Queen Mother's life had been spared. Ta'a Chume had been apprehended for her crime and placed under house arrest ever since then. It was considered by many to be a sham of a sentence, as by Hapan law, even verbally threatening the Queen Mother was grounds for immediate execution. But since the perpetrator had once held that revered position, she had gotten off light.

Not only that, but her so-called 'house arrest' was more like a permanent vacation in a five-star spa resort. Ta'a Chume could not go anywhere outside, but given the facilities she was afforded, it was doubtful that she would even want to. She had access to mud baths, spa treatments, massage therapists, and the finest food and beverages in the Consortium that were still sampled beforehand by experienced taste-testers.

Even today, both Jacen and Tenel Ka bristled at the very thought of it.

"Do you think she's up to something?" Jacen asked as he finished dressing and clipped his lightsaber to his belt.

"This is my grandmother we are talking about," Tenel Ka replied, as she too finished dressing. "She is _always_ up to something." Ta'a Chume was someone who could act all normal and polite in every situation imaginable, and yet her mind was like an insidious machine; it was always operating, always coming up with plans, as well as plans _within_ plans, all of which served only to benefit her and her goals. She was someone who was never meant to be trusted, even in the best of times.

Tenel Ka finally clipped her own lightsaber to her belt. Most Jedi usually constructed the hilt of their weapons out of metal tubes or cylinders, and the weapons of the Solo twins and most of their friends were no exception to this. Tenel Ka's lightsaber was different. Before becoming the Queen Mother, Tenel Ka's mother had been a Nightsister; a warrior woman of the planet Dathomir. It was here that the ferocious rancor creatures had originally come from before gradually being spread across the galaxy. However, the Nightsisters had tamed the beasts, and used them as war mounts. Tenel Ka's great-grandmother had kept one as a pet, and after it died, she had sent two of its teeth to her. Both were roughly the size, shape and weight of a lightsaber handle, and so the young Jedi princess had used one as a hilt.

Unfortunately, this was the lightsaber that had malfunctioned, and resulted in her left arm being accidentally cut off, by Jacen, of all people. When she had used the other tooth to construct her new weapon, she had taken the time to do so properly, and that was the lightsaber she used now. Not only that, but the focusing crystal that was installed in it was a near-prefect one taken from a Hapan tiara. In addition to being a fine weapon, it was a perfect combination of the warrior princess's two heritages.

Jacen exited the door first, and then took a few seconds to look both ways down the hallway before ushering Tenel Ka out. The two of them made their way to the bridge, trying to look as formal as possible, even though both of them had a wish to at least hold each other's hand while they walked. But they had to keep up appearances. Though everyone who was close to them was well aware of the true nature of their relationship, and some of the other people stationed on the _Dragon's Claw_ either knew or suspected, that still did not mean that they needed to add more fuel to the fire.

Being the heiress to the throne of a kingdom consisting of sixty-three planets and moons, Tenel Ka was no stranger to being targeted by the tabloids. Nor was Jacen, as he was the son of two of the Rebellion and New Republic's greatest heroes, as well as the nephew of another. It was his sister Jaina who once commented that 'if you are famous, and you even sneeze in the wrong direction, the media will probably have a field day over it', and nobody could disagree with her. Therefore, even though their love was obvious to all but the densest of individuals, it paid to be discreet.

Not only that, but any of their enemies could use such a relationship to exploit any potential weaknesses. That was something that both Jedi understood all too well, and there seemed to be no shortage of potential enemies willing to do just that.

* * *

"Ah, you must be the great Master of the Jedi that I have heard so much about," Ralgha enthused as the Skywalkers approached.

Luke smiled and gave a slight incline of his head as he responded, Mara doing the same. "You have heard correctly. I am Luke Skywalker, Grand Master of the Jedi Order. This is my wife, Mara Jade Skywalker. She is also a Master within our Order."

"His mate, if you will," Jaina supplied, noticing Ralgha's apparent unfamiliarity with the word 'wife'.

"Ah yes," Ralgha continued. "I must admit the two of you certainly hold yourselves in a manner befitting most warriors. I have witnessed firsthand some of your Jedi in action, including your brethren," he indicated Jaina, "and I must admit that I am most impressed. You have trained them well. One of them even saved my life recently."

"Did they now?" Mara asked.

"Yes, it was the one you called Valin Horn. We were attempting to transfer my crew over to your custody, and he dispatched a would-be assassin, slicing him open with your… Light Sabers, I believe they are called?"

"Lightsabers; just one word," Luke provided. "And yes, we do remember Valin. He was one of our most promising students."

"I appreciate the compliment, Master Skywalker," came a voice from off to the side; the accent clearly denoting the speaker as being of Corellian origin. Turning, the Jedi and the Kilrathi noble saw Valin Horn striding towards them. Coming up behind him was another Kilrathi. Jaina recognised him as Kirha; Ralgha's former retainer.

"Ah Valin," Luke welcomed. "How have things been going for you?"

"Could be worse," the yong man replied. He then added in a lower tone, "And it could also be a little bit better too."

"What do you mean?" asked Mara.

"Well, since I saved Ralgha's life, he seems to have found it to be an acceptable gift to hand over the services of his retainer here," he jerked his thumb over his shoulder to Kirha, "to me."

"I don't understand," said Mara. "Retainer?"

Ralgha chose to take it upon himself to explain. "In your culture, they would be considered servants. A clan of _Kilra'hra_ , or commoners, will generally swear allegiance to a clan of _Thrak'hra_ , nobles such as myself. For nearly my whole life, Kirha here has been my retainer; sworn in service to me. But after saving my life, I decided to reward young Valin here by turning over Kirha's services to him."

"Sort of like a Wookiee life debt," Luke deduced.

"Sort of," Valin grumbled. "Except in those, the Wookiees still have free will. With this guy, he can't do anything at all; even eating, sleeping and going to the bathroom without my say-so!" He glanced over his shoulder at his new Kilrathi servant. "No offence."

"None taken, Sire," Kirha replied earnestly. Valin just gave a frustrated sigh.

"And no offence to you," Luke directed at Ralgha, "but that does seem just a little bit extreme."

"Almost like what Palpatine did," Mara muttered under her breath.

"I understand your trepidations," Ralgha replied. "However, in theory, it is also a good way to ensure security. If a retainer does not show up to receive their orders, then the master will know something is wrong. And since they obey only their master, they cannot receive orders from someone else that may cause harm. I will admit, it is a harsh system, but it does have a few perks. Though I will admit, it probably would be better for the retainer to have just a little more free will."

"As interesting as this political debate may be," Jaina interrupted, "I believe we have more pressing issues to discuss; most notably, the retaking of Naboo."

"Yes, of course," said Ralgha. "I am sorry." Similarly, the two Skywalkers both uttered apologies. With that, the Kilrathi noble began leading the Jedi to the briefing room.

Valin was the last one to depart. "Come on, Kirha," he directed.

"Yes, Sire," the Kilrathi responded, following his new master.

"And please don't call me 'Sire'."

* * *

 **As an offhand note, that thing about Ben having a crush on Jysella Horn? When this was written, several fanfic writers paired them together. But then the official writers went ahead and changed her age in the FOTJ series, making her older. I decided to keep it the same because... why not.**

 **Another slight deviation from Legends canon is that, originally, Tenel Ka's mother was killed. This time, she survived. Also, I believe she was pregnant at the time, but I decided to leave that bit out.**

 **By the way, that thing about the retainers? According to what I researched about the Kilrathi, that's an actual thing in their culture.**


	17. Kilrah III

**CHAPTER SIXTEEN**

 **x**

 **x**

 **Imperial Palace**

 **Kilrah**

"I assure you, my Lord, you have nothing to worry about."

Even as Gilkarg uttered these words to the Emperor, his father, he wished that he believed them as much as he sounded.

The Kalralahr of the Imperial Fleet was highly aware of his surroundings, including the cold stone of the floor that he was kneeling on, and the piercing gaze of his father as he continued to recline on the throne. Only one of the liege's eyes was natural, and the other was mechanical, but to Gilkarg, they both felt as if their gaze was penetrating deep into his soul, seeing all of his insecurities and uncertainties.

It had been two whole eights of days ( _A/N: see attached note_ ) since Gilkarg had stood alongside the Emperor before the gathering of Barons and declared that he would lead a strike force to seize control of Centrepoint Station, so they could use it against their enemies. The motivation behind the plan was that the Galactic Alliance would be distracted by the Sivar-Eshrad taking place on Naboo, and thus would not notice the Kilrathi taking control of this ancient weapon until it was too late.

Unfortunately, the Supreme Commander had not forseen that another problem would arise within the Station's host system itself; an insurrectionist group calling itself the Five Worlds Liberation Front launching a coup across the entire system and taking control of the Station for their own purposes. This had caused Gilkarg to suffer what would best be described as a mild panic, causing him to fluster and unintentionally delay the attack; actions that only served to earn him his father's ire.

Which was why the Kalralahr was now abasing himself before the Emperor, trying to assuage any fears and uncertainties that they might be feeling with this sudden turn of events. Gilkarg could only pray to Sivar that the Emperor would buy his assurances, even when he himself could not be completely certain.

The Emperor gave a deep rumble in thought, leaning forward slightly, his gaze never wavering from his son. He glanced sideways at his black and crimson clad Drakhai bodyguards. "Leave us," he uttered simply, and the imposing figures quickly shuffled out of the room.

Once they were alone, the Emperor leaned back. "Stand," he ordered his son. Gilkarg did so, only reluctantly raising his eyes to his father.

The Emperor addressed his son and Supreme Commander of his forces in a carefully neutral tone. "There was no way for you to forsee that this little insurrection in the Corellian system was to occur. I am simply interested in whether or not you are still capable of achieving what you set out to do. You stood up beside me in front of all those damnable Barons and promised that you would take Centrepoint. And now, you are uncertain. You do know that it will not only reflect bad on you, but it would not look good for me if my own Kalralahr were unable to do what he promised." He lowered his voice. "Especially since you are my own son."

Gilkarg fought to clamp down on the nervous gestures that threatened to make themselves known. For his whole life, he had fought to earn his father's approval. It was a trait not uncommon in the Kilrathi, particularly among those in the noble classes. It was also not uncommon for the leader of a _hrai_ to execute their own offspring if they shamed them in any serious way. That was part of the reason that Gilkarg's own brother was dead. And to top it off, his father was not just any high-ranking noble. No, he was the Emperor of Kilrah himself; the ruler of their entire regime! If Gilkarg were to fail him, then there was no doubt that he would be killed in order to relmove the taint, lest it cause the people to lose faith in their leader and pitch the Empire into anarchy.

Almost as if his gaze could indeed penetrate into Gilkarg's mind, the Emperor could practically read the turmoil on his son's face like an open book. He knew that Gilkarg had done his best to make him proud, but he always seemed to be lacking in certain regards. No, perhaps the best thing to have come from this whelp of a son of his was his grandson.

Thrakhath. Now there was someone who would make a fine Emperor some day, the current ruler mused. Cunning, ruthless, bloodthirsty; all of the best traits of the Kilrathi species, but not a trace of hesitance or uncertainty. And yet, he was occupied with running the Sivar-Eshrad. No, he had his own task to perform, and Gilkarg had his.

Still, the Emperor was more than willing to give his sole surviving son the benefit of the doubt. After all, he had not been _too_ much of a disappointment, unlike that worthless brother of his.

"Explain," the Emperor inquired, hoping that his curious demeanour would put Gilkarg's mind at some sort of ease.

It worked. The Kalralahr visible relaxed and started to explain. "From what our spies can tell, it seems that the system was only lightly defended before, as it was still a significant distance from the front line of the war, and the Alliance is not one to impose martial law on its citizens."

"Weak fools," the Emperor murmured.

"My sentiments exactly," Gilkarg agreed. "However, there was still a presence at each of the planets in the system, and a slightly larger one for the Station. However, this insurrectionist group, the Five Worlds Liberation Front, had agents all over the system; some in positions of power and influence, others who were simple civilians, and some were military personnel. Since their coup, they have marshalled their forces, combining them to make one whole fleet. Unfortunately, they have positioned them at one single location, which they feel is the most vital for them to defend."

"And that would be Centrepoint Station," the Emperor guessed, his comment being a statement and not a question.

"Correct," Gilkarg admitted. "Now, I will admit that when they are all combined, the collective Five Worlds fleet is strong enough to rival any one of ours or even the Alliance's. However, by doing so, they have left their planets virtually undefended. They have, in a sense, put all their resources in one place."

"Making an optimal target for us to strike."

A feral grin appeared on Gilkarg's face. "Exactly," he enthused. Seeing the faint traces of a similar grin appear on his father's face, he knew that he had just earned some points in his favour. "These rebels may not be as strong as the Alliance is, nor any of their allies, but they have the potential to become a nuisance in the future. Not only that, but they are in possession of perhaps the dealiest weapon the galaxy has ever seen. And I believe I speak for all of us when I say that we cannot allow this to continue." He paused to let the effect of these words sink in.

The Emperor narrowed his one good eye in thought. "I don't suppose there is any chance of them joining us in our crusade?" Though the Kilrathi were generally hostile towards all outsiders, there had been instances in their history where they had actually entered into formal alliances, or at least nonaggression pacts with them. However, these tended to last only until the others had outlived their usefulness, after which they were either slaughtered or enslaved.

"I would not waste my time with such a venture," Gilkarg answered. "From what we have been able to determine, the leader of the Five Worlds Liberation Front is a Human called Thracken." At the Emperor's surprised look he added, "Yes, I have noticed the similarity of his name with that of my son, but have since dismissed it as mere coincidence." The Emperor accepted this explanation with a simple nod.

"Anyway," Gilkarg went on, "this Thracken seems to hold very xenophobic views towards anyone who is not a Human like him. It does appear that he may have worked with the invaders in the last war, these Yuuzhan Vong, but his servitude was one of mere convenience for both sides. Simply put, if we approached him with an offer to work with him, it is highly unlikely he would accept."

"Which leaves attack as our only viable option," the Emperor concluded, not sounding the least bit upset over the prospect.

Gilkarg nodded in affirmation. At the same time, he discretely felt a sense of both relief and pride that he had managed to stave off his father's anger, and at the same time provided him with something that allowed him to get back in his favour. Still, he had another issue to address, and he mentally prepared himself to deliver it.

"With our attack on the Corellian system, there are two options available," he began to outline. "The first is that we take advantage of the low level of protection around the five planets and launch silumatneous attacks on each of them. However, doing so will require a fair bit of coordination and a considerable number of forces, which will be spread thin across the system. At the same time, it will allow the insurrectionists to remain in control of Centrepoint Station."

The Emperor hummed deeply. "An unacceptable outcome," he grumbled.

"I agree," Gilkarg continued. "The other option is that we launch our attack on the station itself, as we originally planned. Naturally, this will result in greater casualties for us, but will also provide several benefits. Firstly, it will allow us to secure the station for our own uses. Secondly, it will enable us to effectively control the system anyway and will remove the Five Worlds Liberation Front as a potential threat. And thirdly, it would also provide us with a staging area from which we can launch more attacks on the Inner Rim, and even the Core Worlds themselves!"

The Emperor allowed his good eye to widen at the prospect that the Supreme Commander had just presented to him. It was indeed an exciting one; to be able to launch strikes at the Core Worlds, the very heart of the Galactic Alliance itself! Such an opportunity was far too appealing to simply let it slip through his claws. He allowed his mind to be teased and tantilised by images of Kilrathi fighters and capital ships dropping into orbit over the most vital worlds of their enemies, dropping through the atmosphere, raining blasts onto the surface, like a cleansing fire from above.

Gilkarg saw the excitement in his father's features, and he knew he had just presented himself with the greatest opportunity he could have ever hoped for.

It took a minute for the Emperor to shift his features back into their usual ways; both casual and regal. He leaned back in his stone chair and levelled his steely gaze firmly at Gilkarg once more.

"You know what to do, Kalralahr Gilkarg nar Kiranka," he intoned, enunciating his son's full title. "You will take as many forces as you can manage, you will go to the Corellian system, and you will sieze control of Centrepoint Station for the Kilrathi Empire. You will destroy any who oppose you, and you will show the galaxy the true might of the Kilrathi!"

Gilkarg got back down on his knee, bowing his head, and only just managing to contain the excitement he felt at the prospect.

"But remember," the Emperor continued in a low voice, "that you are my son, and as a result, your actions reflect upon me. You have managed to get by in your career and your life mainly through my good graces." He leaned forward once more. When he spoke again, his voice had a dangerous and threatening edge to it. "But that will not be enough to save you should you falter in this task. If you fail in this undertaking in any way, make no mistake about it; your life is forfeit. And if it were in my power, I would condemn you to _Nargrast_ for all eternity."

Gilkarg knew that his father meant every single word of this threat, and it took every ounce of willpower that he possessed to keep himself from showing even the slightest tremor of fear. He cleared his throat to get rid of the sudden blockage he felt, then spoke again. "Yes, my Lord. _Ek'rah skabak erg Thrak'Kilrah maks Rag'nith_."

* * *

 **NOTE: For those of you who are confused about the mathematics used by the Kilrathi in this chapter, allow me to explain: we Humans have five fingers on each hand (including the thumb), thus equalling a total of ten. Because of this, our math system is base ten – we count in tens, hundreds, thousands, millions, etc; all of which are multiples of ten.**

 **The Kilrathi use the same formula, except they possess only four figures on each hand (again, including the thumb), resulting in a math system of base eight. This means they reach double digits as soon as they get to eight, so the numbers of nine and ten effectively do not exist for them. It would be as if we met an alien with twelve fingers who used base twelve mathematics.**

 **The instance used in this chapter ('two eights of days have passed') would amount to a total of sixteen days by our standards.**

 **Kilrathi glossary:**

 ** _Nargrast_ – The hell of Kilrathi mythology. It is believed to be a barren, frozen wasteland where there is nothing to hunt.**


	18. Naboo III

**CHAPTER SEVENTEEN**

 **x**

 **x**

 **Just ouside Theed**

 **Kilrathi-occupied Naboo**

Naboo was no stranger to being occupied by a brutal military force. Sixty-five years earlier, the greedy executives of the Trade Federation had ordered the planet blockaded, ostensibly for taxation reasons. After two Jedi, Qui-gon Jinn and Obi-wan Kenobi, had gotten the reigning Queen, Padme Amidala, offworld, they had fled to Coruscant, where their dissatisfaction over the whole debacle resulted in the Republic's ruling chancellor Finis Valorum being voted out of office, to be replaced by one of Naboo's own citizens; a senator by the name of Palpatine.

Of course, it was only in later years that it was discovered that Palpatine had engineered the whole affair, as part of his convoluted yet effective scheme to seize control of the galaxy. A scheme that gave him ultimate power, but at the cost of billions of lives.

And the incident had also led to another event unfolding; one which would have an impact on the galaxy for decades to come. The flight from Naboo had required a stopover on Tattooine, and it was there that the exiles would meet a young boy named Anakin Skywalker, who would play an extremely vital role in all that would occur.

But that was another story.

The point was, Naboo had definitely known what it was like to be under the thumb of an invading army. However, while the Trade Federation had been brutal, they at least had a certain degree of restraint. Their cause had been more of a political manoeuvre, albeit an illegal one. This was not so for the Kilrathi. They cared little for politics; their cause was fuelled by a violent religious creed that called for mountains of bodies piled high, each victim having their life taken away as a sacrifice to Sivar.

The brutal occupation had lasted less than two standard weeks, and yet in just a single day, more people had died than in the entire occupation by the Trade Federation sixty-five years earlier. The Kilrathi were methodical in their massacre, targeting one town or village at a time. Several people chose to flee beforehand once they had received word of the coming of the enemy, but others opted to stay and fight, to defend their home. Many fought valiantly, but in the end, the Kilrathi would overcome them, and nobody would be left alive.

The aggressors attacked both the Naboo Humans and the Gungans alike. Given the latter's warlike attitude, it was no surprise that they seemed to suffer more than their Human counterparts. Nonetheless, the body count kept rising. First it was in the hundreds, then thousands, then tens of thousands, and then hundreds of thousands. It was all but obvious that unless something was done fast, it would soon be over a million.

Especially since the Kilrathi were now on their way to the planetary capital of Theed. The anti-air defences had proven to be formidable enough that the Kilrathi were unable to penetrate. Hundreds of their fighters had been shot down, which made attacking from the air implausible. That left them one option: a ground assault.

Kilrathi were not known for building efficient artillery or tanks, but they were deadly in hand-to-hand combat as well, and they had strength in numbers. The defenders of Theed had done a good job of setting up defensive lines all around the city perimeter, and this had allowed them to hold off the attackers. So far. But they were well aware that if their defence showed the slightest chink, the enemy would rush to capitalise on it.

Unknown to either side, there was another individual looking for a way to get inside the defences. One who was willing to help the Naboo fight back against the Kilrathi.

* * *

"How much further must we be expected to pace around this barricade?" grumbled one of the Kilathi sentries. "Why can we not simply smash it down?"

Right he and two other of his species were ambling along the perimeter of the defenses that had been erected around Theed, looking for any kind of weaknesses that could be exploited to their advantage. He kept pace with another sentry while their leader, a low ranking _Thrak'hra_ , marched a few paces ahead of them, doing his best to ignore the prattling of his subordinates.

"Because," the other sentry explained, "we were ordered to find weak spots on the wall so that we can focus our attacks on it and bring it crashing down. It does us no good if we attack the wall where it is strongest. That would only waste time."

The first Kilrathi grunted in response, clearly not adequately satisfied with the answer. "Still, why waste our time with this city. There are plenty more places out there on the planet that have not yet fallen to us. Places that are less heavily defended."

The second gave an affirmative huff. "True. I have not shed any blood for two days now, and those Gungan creatures in particular make satisfying victims, if only because killing them prevents them from talking in that annoying dialect of theirs." Here, the two sentries both chuffed with laughter.

"Quiet!" The sentry leader snapped from ahead of them. "I have heard enough of your incessant prattling to last an entire lifetime."

That was particularly annoying thing about this individual; he had no sense of humour. "We were ordered to walk around this perimter in order to find a vulnerability, and that is what we shall do." He stopped and turned to look at the other two. "And if you have a problem with that, I would be happy to relieve you from the task." He flashed his claws. "Permanently."

This caused the two sentries to fall silent, and the leader permitted himself the briefest shadow of a grin. As he turned back around, however, he felt an unexpected burning sensation through his midsection, and saw that the cause was a bright orange blade burning cleanly through his chest. The source of which was a metallic cylinder held in the hand of a wiry young Human male around the same height as him. Looking up, the leader saw fierce determination burning in the green eyes of this Human; the last thing he ever saw.

The Jedi withdrew the burning orange blade, and as the leader's body crumbled to the ground, he sidestepped it and rushed at the sentries. Alarmed at the sudden appearance of this intruder who had effortlessly killed their leader, they went for their weapons.

They were not quick enough, and with two quick swipes of his blade, the Human dispatched them as well.

* * *

Growing up in the harsh undercity of Coruscant, Zekk had developed a talent for stealth. He could stick to the shadows, or even be standing in plain sight, and his adversary would be none the wiser. Being a Jedi had simply added to this particular skill. And when one considered the fact that Zekk was unusually tall for a male Human in his age bracket, this made it all the more impressive.

Sneaking up on these Kilrathi, mainly the leader, had been all too easy. He had been so busy chewing out his subordinates that Zekk was sure a grenade could have gone off and he'd have been none the wiser. As for the other two, it had simply been a matter of speed; ensuring that he took them down before they could reach for their weapons.

All in all, it had been a relatively simple task.

Turning away from his fallen enemies, Zekk ran his emerald gaze over the barricade surrounding the city of Theed. The defenders had set it up in something of a hurry, and yet they still managed to do a decent enough job. For all intents and purposes, it looked steady enough to repel a ground based attack from any kind of enemy, including the Kilrathi. Added to the fact that shield defences and anti-air batteries were protecting the city from aerial assaults, Theed definitely seemed secure.

 _Looks like they learned their lesson well from when they were occupied by the Trade Federation_ , Zekk mused. _But even then, they are only as strong as their weakest link, which is what these cats were looking for_. Continuing to scan the wall, he searched for any weaknesses that could be exploited. Finding none, he started to look for those that were not so obvious; ones that people such as the Kilrathi would easily overlook.

The differences between the Kilrathi and a person like Zekk were that the feline aggressors preferred to do things by brute force. In fact, it seemed like nothing else was ever an option for them. With their method of doing things, they would more often than not simply throw as much as possible at a problem or an enemy, hoping to wear it out through sheer strength. Admittedly, there were times when they employed some finesse and forethought, but that was mostly so they could figure out exactly _where_ they would apply their strength, and exactly _how much_ of it was required.

Zekk, on the other hand, was a Jedi, and an intelligent one at that. He was used to thinking things through before making his move, and his life experiences had taught him to look for all possible options before acting on any of them. Sure, a weak link would present an obvious way in, but so did many other places in the barricade. And using those would not require brute force. Hence, the Kilrathi would easily overlook them.

That did not make it any easier in finding it, of course.

Opting to continue along the length of the wall in the direction that the Kilrathi sentries had been heading, Zekk set off at a cautious pace. He kept his lightsaber in his hand, but unignited. There were no guarantees as to whether or not he would run into any more of them, but he wanted to be prepared in any case.

It took less than ten minutes of walking before Zekk found what he was looking for. It was a section of the barricade, but one that was not properly set up, and was noticeably lower than the rest of the wall. The defenses around the city had been hastily constructed by material that was thrown together haphazardly, but for the most part, it looked as though it would hold, all standing roughly three metres tall. This particular area looked like it would fall if too much pressure were put upon it.

 _This would not be strong enough against a direct hit_ , the young man observed. Turning his gaze upward, he noticed several protrusions and odd angles running up the height of the wall. If someone were aiming to sneak into the city, then they would most likely be thinking of using them to climb up and over the barricade. A Kilrathi could try, but it would be a toss-up as to whether the wall would support their weight.

 _But it might be strong enough for my weight,_ Zekk contemplated. He took a moment to take stock of his strength, and decided to use a little help from the Force. Stepping forward, he placed his foot on a low protrusion, reached out and grabbed another, and pulled himself upwards.

Almost immediately, he could hear the very faint telltale creak that indicated the wall was being placed under strain. Taking a moment to let the Force flow through him, Zekk allowed it to increase his buoyancy, making him lighter, and he heard the creaks subside.

Growing up in the Coruscant undercity had also enabled Zekk to do a lot of climbing up and down the countless numbers of skyscrapers; many of which had been disused. One time in his youth, he had spotted what appeared to be a shining jewel at the bottom of an elevator shaft. After climbing down it, he discovered that the source of the luminescence was nothing more than a piece of foil that had somehow gotten stuck there.

Continuing his climb, Zekk reached the top, and with another burst of the Force, vaulted himself over and on to the other side. Now within the confines of the city of Theed, he contemplated his next move.

* * *

The Kilrathi were up to something; that much Byrom Hyde was sure of. As a captain in the Royal Naboo military, it was his job to ensure the safety and security of the populace. For the most part, he liked to think that he had done all that he could.

A career soldier, Byrom had served with distinction, always intending to serve his homeworld proudly. Ever since the Trade Federation invaded and occupied the planet sixty-five years earlier, the Naboo had made it a point to keep and maintain a strong military so as to stand firm in the event that such an event were to occur again. Byrom had held true to this, but always harboured the hope that no invading force would ever think to attack Naboo again.

Unfortunately, the Kilrathi had other plans. These sentient felines lacked any of the finesse that had been employed by the droid armies of the Trade Federation, simply attacking, destroying, and slaughtering at will everywhere they went. More to that, they had the gall to claim that their attack on Naboo had been part of a ritual for their sick religion; one that called for the entire planet's population to be wiped out.

Byrom had been a soldier for many years now, even had the honour of serving in the Yuuzhan Vong War, and yet he had never felt so scared in his life. He had heard of the horrors inflicted upon his people, and on their Gungan neighbours. It made him sick and terrified at the same time. Frankly, it amazed him that he had not yet vomited.

"Anything new to report?" Byrom asked, turning to one of the sentries at his side. Right now, they were on a platform positioned just on the inside of the barricade surrounding the capital city. They had managed to hold back the Kilrathi so far, and the shield and anti-air defences had managed to keep their air forces at bay, but even then, the defenders could only last so long until they were overrun.

The sentry lowered the pair of binoculars from his eyes. "Not much, I'm afraid," he reported. "The Kilrathi seem to be congregating at a position about three clicks away, but they don't look like they're doing a great deal; just standing around taking stock of their weapons and equipment and such." He turned to his captain. "Doesn't look like they've got any snipers, but I'd still keep my head down, if I were you."

Byrom nodded. "Keep tabs on them. If they move even a metre closer, let me know."

"Will do."

Stepping down from the platform, the captain walked to the tent that had been set up as their makeshift headquarters. Stepping inside, he spotted the three technicians operating the radios, all of them looking more than a little frustrated.

"Still no answer?" Byrom asked.

"None," sighed one of the techs. "Not a single peep. We haven't heard any word from the Alliance ever since the Kilrathi showed up and drove them away."

"So much for their protection," another tech muttered darkly. "They claim to be working in the best interests of everybody, but when the going gets tough, they cut and run, leaving us to fend for themselves."

"That's enough," Byrom snapped. "Just because they had to leave us does not mean they have abandoned us completely. There is a chance of them coming to relieve us, and until that happens, we need to hold out for as long as we can. In the meantime, just do your job."

The techs all muttered their acknowledgements, then went back to working the radios.

Byrom did not want to say this out loud, but part of him did agree with what was said. It seemed the Alliance had abandoned them to their fate, just like the Republic had done so during the Trade Federation attack.

 _You really should stop making comparisons between now and then_ , the captain's mind seemed to be telling him. Sighing softly, he stepped back out of the tent into the midday sun. He felt as though he was no closer to a solution than he had been since the attack began.

"You really oughta have more faith in others."

Snapping his head to the source of the voice, Byrom Hyde was surprised to see that the speaker was not a member of the Royal Naboo military, nor did he even come across as a normal citizen of Naboo. No, this man was taller than most of his fellow Humans, had slightly paler skin, piercing green eyes, long black hair, and presently wore a bandage on his left temple. His lower half was decked out in the pants of a flight suit typically worn by pilots in the Galactic Alliance, and a simple white t-shirt covered his upper half. It seemed that every trace of his clothing and visible skin was covered in cuts, bruises, and general dirt and grime. Obviously, the last few days had been rough on him.

What really caught Byrom's attention, however, was the metal cylinder hanging from the man's belt. There were only a handful of individuals who carried those objects. _A Jedi_ , he tought in amazement.

"You the guy in charge?" the tall man asked rather casually.

Thrown by the younger man's laid-back demeanour; a stark contrast to how he looked and the situation they were all in, Byrom was left stuttering for an answer. "Um yes, I am. Captain Byrom Hyde," he managed to get out. "Who are you exactly?"

"I'm a Jedi," the young man replied matter-of-factly. "And I'm here to give you a hand in dealing with the Kilrathi. All I ask in return is that you help me get off this planet and back to my fleet."

"Your fleet?" Byrom was genuinely surprised. "I didn't know that there was an Alliance fleet nearby."

"There isn't. We got our hands on a Kilrathi ship and some fighters. We were doing recon in this system when the enemy figured out we were not one of theirs and attacked us. I got shot down and crash-landed not far from here. I figured my best chance of getting back was to make my way here. Also, I figured I might as well lend a hand."

Byrom furrowed his brow. "How did you get past the barricade?"

The Jedi jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "There's a weak spot in the wall back that way. I climbed over it. I suggest you get it fixed before the Kilrathi find it."

Stunned for a moment, Byrom nodded. "Good idea, Master Jedi. I will see to it as soon as possible."

"Zekk."

"I beg your pardon?"

"My name is Zekk, not Master Jedi."

"Oh, of course. Would you prefer Master Zekk or Jedi Zekk?"

Zekk gave a faint smile. "Just plain old Zekk, thank you. I've never been a big fan of titles. "Anyway, once I climbed over, I met up with some of your troops, they patched up my little scratch here," he indicated the bandage on his head, "then they pointed me in your direction. I figured I might as well lend a hand until my friends return to bail us out."

Byrom gave the best smile he could manage in his current mindset. "I appreciate your assistance Master, uh, I mean Zekk. If nothing else, you could at least help convince some of my soldiers not to lose faith that the Alliance, or anybody else for that matter, will eventually come and help us. A lot of them are feeling abandoned."

Zekk took a couple of steps closer to the middle-aged captain and fixed him with a firm look. It was a gesture not meant to intimidate, merely to drive home the point. "I understand your frustrations, Captian, but I assure you, there is no way that Naboo has simply been abandoned to its fate. I know my friends and allies, and I know them pretty well. They may have been forced to leave you for the time being, but mark my words: they _will_ be back. And when they do, all of us will drive these damned cats off the planet!"

* * *

 **The _Young Jedi Knights_ series was one of my favourites growing up, and Zekk was one of my favourite characters in it. When the _New Jedi Order_ series came out, I was hoping he would have a good role to play, and one that would do him justice. I actually wanted that for all of the characters. Needless to say, I was greatly disappointed, and that is the main reason why I do not like NJO.**

 **Anyway, I still have not gotten any more reviews, so if someone could write a couple more, that would be better. I understand that _Star Wars_ is a hugely popular fanchise, so these stories get a lot of turnover, but still.**


	19. Naboo IV

**Well, here it is; the battle to liberate Naboo has begun!**

 **By the way, this chapter includes a very subtle reference to the actual _Wing Commander_ games early on. See if you can spot it!**

 **x**

 **CHAPTER EIGHTEEN**

 **x**

 **x**

 **Combined Galactic Alliance/Hapes Consortium Fleet**

 **Outer edges of Naboo system**

When Zekk had made the promise to Royal Naboo captain Byrom Hyde, they did not wait that long to get results. In fact, it was only two days after this that their allies made their move.

Entering into talks with the Kilrathi defector Ralgha nar Hhallas, the military leaders of the Galactic Alliance stationed with the Star Destroyer _Dragon's Claw_ and its fleet had implemented a plan. They had needed more ships and soldiers, but these were brought into the play by the arrival of the heiress to the throne, Tenel Ka. When she had arrived, she had brought one of the Consortium's support fleets with her, thus supplementing the Alliance's existing firepower. And when she was not busy getting 'reaquainted' with Jacen Solo, she partook in the planning.

Luke and Mara also offered their combat expertise for the upcoming battle. Wedge Antilles had found this so appealing that he even offered to appoint them leaders of an X-wing squadron, which soon became split in two, with each Skywalker leading one of them.

Throughout it all, Ralgha, gradually winning the trust of his new allies, continued to offer insights as to how his fellow Kilrathi would operate, and what the Alliance and Hapan forces should expect. In his spare time, he even requested to try out an X-wing, and Luke had been willing to accommodate his wish. Because of his size, others quipped that the Kilrathi would not fit in the cockpit, but he managed to do so just fine, and it turned out he was a natural at piloting. Despite this, it was decided that his skills in the fighting would be best utilised commanding from the bridge of the _Ras Nik'hra_.

Amazingly, Ralgha also bonded well with Luke. It seemed as though the Jedi Grand Master and the Kilrathi noble had a lot of common ground on certain things. Their conversations came so naturally, one would think they had been old friends in another life.

Through all of this, the planning continued, and it was only a matter of time before the attack was to begin, and the sooner it could start, the better. And that day arrived very quickly.

* * *

The _Dragon's Claw_ stuck out like a sore thumb; an imposing Star Destroyer amongst the Battle Dragons and Nova carriers of the Hapan armada. The remaining Alliance vessels had been divided into two groups, to be used at another point. Milling about just a small distance away from the capital ship were two groups of X-wing fighters.

On the _Claw_ 's bridge, Commander Wedge Antilles overlooked the situation. Beside him stood Han Solo, the look on his face suggesting that he was more than a little bit concerned. He kept his hands firmly in his pockets, lest nobody notice the slight termor in them.

On the other side stood Tenel Ka. Despite the requests of the Hapan leaders, who were reluctant to place any member of the royal family in danger, Tenel Ka insisted that she would be onboard the _Dragon's Claw_ for the battle, though she obviously would much rather have been alongside her Jedi friends in the thick of things.

As for the Hapans and their objections, they only settled down after Tenel Ka made a few pointed remarks at her subordinates, telling them that if they were in any way displeased with the Jedi princess's decision, then they could perform certain acts in regards to their anatomy that did not seem physically possible, but definitely sounded painful. It was a shock to the normally dignified Hapans, but they shut up nonetheless.

Right now, Tenel Ka's mask was one of pure stoicism and determination, but those who knew her well enough could tell that she was feeling more than a little bit apprehensive about the whole scenario.

Wedge ignored their nervousness, and tried to ignore his own as well. He keyed a communication with the _Ras Nik'hra_. "Ralgha, are you ready?"

"As ready as I can be," the noble replied. He had been placed back in command of his vessel, which was now staffed with Alliance personnel who had been brought up to speed on how the systems worked. The ship had been sent along with one of the other two fleets. Leia was with Ralgha, ostensibly to act as a liaison, but also to keep a close eye on him, lest he betray them and return to his people. Wedge suspected that was why Han was so nervous.

"Very well then." He shut off command with the _Ras Nik'hra_ and opened it to the two squadrons of X-wings milling about. "Red squadron; all members, report in."

"This is Red Leader, standing by," came the voice of Mara Jade Skywalker. When she had been assigned leadership of Red Squadron, Luke had quipped it was appropriate, given the colour of her hair. Mara promised her husband serious punishment for that remark, though the smiles on their faces indicated the 'punishment' was more likely to be something they might enjoy.

"Red Two, standing by," said Jaina Solo; Mara's niece and former apprentice.

"(Red Three, standing by)," growled Lowbacca.

"Red Four, standing by," reported Raynar.

The rest of the squad did so in order. Vua Rapuung was Red Five, and he was both surprised and honoured when he learned that Luke Skywalker had been given that title during the pivotal Battle of Yavin. The Twi'lek Jedi Alema Rar was Red Six, Danath was Red Seven, Sesha was Red Eight, and Valin Horn completed the roundout as Red Nine.

With Red Squadron complete, Wedge then addressed the other group; Blue Squadron, led by Luke Skywalker. The Duro veteran pilot Lensi was Blue Two, Jacen Solo was Blue Three, Tahiri Veila was Blue Four, Dipper was Blue Five, Jolly was Blue Six, Anja Gallandro was Blue Seven, the Ithorian pilot known as Hammer was Blue Eight, and the foul-tempered Cerean woman Kari was Blue Nine.

"Okay squadrons," Wedge addressed them all. "Jump out and meet up with your assigned fleets. Good luck, and may the Force be with all of you." He heard several clicks as the pilots responded to him, then saw the blips representing the craft representing their X-wings disappear as they jumped out to meet there respective fleets.

Wedge made one final call, this time to all the Hapan ships clustered about the _Dragon's Claw_. "Attention all Hapan vessels. This is Commander Wedge Antilles of the _Dragon's Claw_. Operation is a go. Repeat, operation is a go. Prepare to jump on my mark."

* * *

Aboard his flagship, the vast Dreadnought called the _H'varkann_ , Thrakhath nar Kiranka lay back almost lazily in his command chair, absentmidedly tapping his claws on the armrest. He contemplated the last few days; how the Sivar-Eshrad had been progressing, how the traitor Ralgha nar Hhallas had snuck in to the system and attempted to acquire intel for his new inferior allies, and how the Jedi that had been shot down by Fireclaw seemed to have eluded capture, and in fact managed to kill a number of Kilrathi soldiers on the surface.

Thrakhath contemplated going back down to the surface of Naboo. He had already been down there a couple of times, engaging in the ritual slaughter of the ceremony. He had personally slaughtered a total of two eights of the Humans on the planet, as well as five whole eights of those annoying creatures known as Gungans. _(A/N: 16 Humans, 40 Gungans)_ Taking a break, he decided to go back to the _H'varkann_ and see how things were going in orbit. He had almost immediately gotten bored, wishing to go back and spill the blood of more victims.

But somebody needed to keep an eye on the fleet. That was what Thrakhath had kept telling himself, and what he kept telling his subordinates. It would do no good for the ceremony to go on if there were no manned vessels up on orbit to protect them from attack. Every member of his enormous fleet had wanted to go planetside and partake in the slaughter, but in order to maintain a balance, Thrakhath had forced them to take it in shifts. After much grumbling, the other Kilrathi had conceded to his demands. He was, after all, the heir to the Throne of Kilrah.

Of course, this did little to change the fact that Thrakhath himself wished that he were back on the surface, racking up the kills and offering each death as a tribute to Sivar. But no matter what he was doing, he reminded himself that he was in charge of every aspect of the ceremony; a great honour that had been bestowed upon him by his grandfather. He remembered the brief talk that he had with the Emperor before leaving; how the ruler had reminded him of the importance of the Eshrad, and how it would raise his influence and power even further in the Empire.

Reflecting upon this made Thrakhath smile a little, and he looked forward to the day when he would return to Kilrah after leaving Naboo devoid of any sentient life. He imagined the pride that would radiate in his royal grandfather's features, and the glory that would flow his way upon the successful completion of the Sivar-Eshrad. He also imagined the demoralisation that his enemies would feel when they beheld the bodies strewn across the planet's landscape. Truly, it was a glorious prospect.

Thrakhath was snapped out of his daydreaming when an alarm began to blare. Uttering a curse under his breath, he pushed himself out of his command chair. "Report," he barked.

"My Lord," called out one of his tactical officers, a Second Fang, to be precise, "it appears that another fleet has dropped out of hyperspace right next to us. It seems as though they are trying to trap us between them and the planet."

"Fools," Thrakhath muttered. Nobody could defeat a Kilrathi fleet, much less trap one. "Are they Alliance vessels?"

"The largest one is, my Lord, but the others are of a design I have not seen before."

Without asking for permission, Thrakhath stepped forward and roughly pushed the Second Fang to the side, setting his gaze upon the screen. Though not as advanced as those on most ships around the galaxy, Kilrathi technology was still advanced enough to get a full grasp of the situation. Studying the intruding ships, Thrakhath saw that, apart from the Star Destroyer, the others were one of two designs. The first looked like two saucers stacked on top of one another at their bottoms, with a row of turrets on the edge of the top disc. The other was a long shaft with a bridge at one end, and a pair of wings that swept downward and forward at the other.

"Those are vessels belonging to the Hapes Consortium; one of the Alliance's cohorts." He turned and grabbed the tactical officer by the throat, his claws digging into the flesh. "If we survive this mission, I suggest you spend some time reading up on the other kinds of ships in the galaxy." He let go roughly and strode back to his command chair.

"Prepare all of our defences. It is time to fight! And establish contact with Fireclaw. We shall be needing him in this battle."

* * *

Wedge felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up as he watched the Kilrathi vessels turn towards his fleet. Similarly, the Hapans who had been placed under his command moved into position to engage their enemies. Almost at once, the fighters disgorged from their capital ships; the Kilrathi had their Dralthis, Salthis and Krants, whereas the Hapans had only their Miy'tils, which were a formidable craft nonetheless. Like two waves crashing together, the two vastly different groups of fighters rushed at each other, quickly merging to form one deadly cloud filled with laser fire and explosions.

It never got any easier; being forced to send good soldiers and warriors to their deaths, but that was the very nature of war. It was something that Wedge had been forced to accept long ago, back when he had been just an idealistic pilot flying for the Rebellion. But no matter how often he told himself that, it was still a bitter pill to swallow.

Glancing out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that Tenel Ka was also feeling this. The Hapans were indeed a proud people, and were willing to fight for whatever cause they followed. Tenel Ka was no exception to this, but as heir to the Hapan throne, the decision to send Hapans to fight often rested upon her shoulders, or that of her family. It could not have been easy for her either, and the aged Corellian leader felt much empathy for her.

Noting that the Kilrathi and the Hapans were now fully engaged, Wedge decided it was time to initiate the second phase of the operation. He opened com channels to the other two fleets…

* * *

Thrakhath felt like laughing. These Hapans did not seem to have quite as much of the tenacity displayed by the Galactic Alliance, but they definitely put up an impressive fight. Impressive enough that they had suffered fewer casualties than the Kilrathi did. But it still did not take away from the fact that their fleet was not as big as theirs. Rather it was only three-quarters the size. It was definitely an uneven fight from Thrakhath's viewpoint.

 _What could have possibly possessed these pathetic fools to attack us, especially here and now?_ The Kilrathi wondered. Shaking his head, he strode over to his chair and sat down in it, a feral smile on his predatory features. It mattered little to him exactly why they were attacking, but if they were all too willing to kill themselves, well then, Thrakhath was all too willing to accommodate their wishes.

As if intending to wipe the smirk off his face, the bridge's equipment sounded, announcing the arrival of not one, but _two_ other fleets to the fray. As his crew reacted in alarm to this sudden turn of events, Thrakhath stood up, once again made his way to the tactical viewscreens, and noticed with extreme distaste that both of the fleets were composes of Galactic Alliance craft.

The Hapan fleet had merely been a diversion. It was supposed to trap him and his fleet between them and the planet while the Alliance fleets jumped in on either side, where they would no doubt come together, squeezing the Kilrathi in between them.

He had fallen for it, and now they were boxed in on every conceivable side.

 _I lead a ceremony in honour of the War God, and THIS is how I get repaid?!_ Thrakhath thought darkly.

* * *

"Both fleets are in position, sir."

"Very good," said Wedge. "What about the interdictor ship?"

"One moment," the crewmember being addressed paused as he examined his screen. "They have their field almost completely up. The enemy vessels are not going anywhere."

"They're trapped," Han muttered, a victorious smirk evident in his tone.

Interdiction fields were used to prevent vessels from entering hyperspace, and if a vessel with an interdiction drive was placed in the correct location, they could actually pull another ship _out_ of hyperspace. The Galactic Empire had utilised these vessels; they looked like smaller variants of Star Destroyers, except they possessed four bulges on their hull, two along each side. In these areas resided the equipment used to generate these fields.

Right now, the fleet at Naboo had one of those interdictor ships, which was all that Alliance command could spare. Nonetheless, with the field in place, the Kilrathi were well and truly trapped. Added to the fact that the Alliance and Hapan forces outnumbered them, the odds were definitely not in the favour of the cats.

"Excellent," Wedge murmured. He then opened a broad communication channel with the other Alliance vessels. "All units move in. Repeat, move in."

* * *

"Okay Blue Squadron, you heard the man, begin the attack!" Luke Skywalker commanded from the cockpit of his X-wing fighter.

" _Red Squadron, move out!"_ He similarly heard his wife order her flight group.

Both X-wing squadrons, backed up by a fleet of Galactic Alliance fighters, capital ships, and frigates, advanced inward towards each other, and began the process of squashing the Kilrathi fleet in between them.

Thus the tempo of the battle became one of a fever pitch. The X-wings, Y-wings and A-wings of the Alliance, combined with the Miy'tils of the Hapes Consortium, did battle with the Dralthis, Salthis and Krants that the Kilrathi threw at them. Similarly, the capital ships began trading blows, strafing each other's hulls with deadly blaster bolts. The shields would absorb the blaster bolts until they were overloaded, and then the hulls themselves began to burst with explosions.

Amidst it all, the fighters continued their deadly battle, punctuated by the regular blossoming of fireballs as a craft fell victim to deadly barrages of fire and exploded; the pilot's life snuffing out in an instant.

For a while the Kilrathi actually managed to hold out against the onslaught, but inevitably, they their lines began to falter and their adversaries moved in for the kill.

* * *

Being larger than other vessels, the great Kilrathi dreadnought _H'varkann_ was obviously capable of withstanding much greater punishment. But this did not stop occasional tremors from reverberating through its hull when it was struck by a particularly powerful shot.

Thrakhath sat forward in his command chair, his chin supported on his right claw. He was wracking his brain for any way in which he could turn this disaster into some form of advantage for him. It was a task made ever more diffucult due to the fact that much of the control centre of his brain was dedicated to preventing him from showing even the slightest sign of nervousness in front of his crew.

As if intentionally trying to distract and dishearten him, a Kilrathi Light Destroyer exploded right in front of the _H'varkann_ 's front viewport. In keeping with their psychological warfare philosophy, it had been shaped like a large serrated claw. Obviously, that had not been enough to prevent it from falling to the enemiy's guns.

Growling with frustration, Thrakhath launched himself to his feet and stormed over to the viewport, watching the ongoing exhange of fire between his vessels and that of the enemy. Gazing out, he looked at the X-wings, Y-wings and Miy'tils, cursing every last one of the individuals piloting them. They were taking out his own fighters with abandon. In particular, those X-wings were quite a nuisance.

Thrakhath stopped to muse for a moment. It seemed that the X-wings _did_ indeed provide the greatest threat. Not only that, but there seemed to be two squads in general that were leading the attack. Thrakhath was willing to bet that those craft were being piloted by Jedi.

Striding over to the communications console, he roughly grabbed the Third Fang who was manning it. "Get me Fireclaw!" he demanded.

* * *

Najji nar Ragitagha, also known as Fireclaw, was already engaged in the fighting with the Alliance and Hapan fighters when he suddenly got a priority transmission from the fleet commander himself. Letting loose a small grumble, he quickly dispatched the Hapan Miy'til he was tailing, then pulled his Dralthi into a safe area back within the confines of the Kilrathi fleet to receive the message. The message in itself had been simple enough, but it still confused Fireclaw.

"You wish me to focus my attention on the X-wing fighters?" he inquired.

"That is correct," Thrakhath confirmed. "It is my belief that Jedi are piloting some of those craft, and they are the ones leading this assault. If you take them out, then our enemies may lose much of their will to fight." He paused, so as to add emphasis on his next comment. "Not only that, but it will provide you the opportunity to finish the job you began with those that escaped you last time. Doing this will grant you great fame within the Empire."

Fireclaw could not argue with any of the points being made. Not to mention that gaining that kind of fame and influence would certainly do wonders for his stance within the Empire.

"I will do as you wish, my Lord."

Thrakhath gave a simple nod and signed off. A moment later, Fireclaw set about rejoining the fray in the manner which he knew best; by burning out and flooring the acceleration.

* * *

The way in which Najji nar Ragitagha returned to the fighting certainly stunned most of the Alliance and Hapan pilots, and this actually gave a few of the less experienced ones enough pause that the other Kilrathi pilots scored easy hits on them.

One pilot who was not stunned was Jaina Solo. As soon as she saw this one particular Dralthi fighter manoeuvre in this manner, she recognised it instantly, and all she could think about was exacting retribution upon it.

As a fellow Jedi, and Jaina's former master, Mara Jade Skywalker could feel the sudden rise in her niece's negative thoughts. Struggling to maintain control of her own craft and avoid the deadly laser bolts of the enemy, she tentatively opened a private com channel to her. "Jaina, I just felt a spike in your emotions. What's wrong?"

Sensing the concern in her aunt's voice, Jaina took a breath to calm herself. "It's that Kilrathi pilot, Fireclaw. The one that killed Rigel and shot down Zekk."

Sighing, Mara knew that she stood little chance of convincing Jaina not to pursue her desire in hunting down and destroying this particular adversary. Not only that, but he did pose a threat, and thus had to be eliminated. "I won't stop you from trying to take him out, Jaina," she told her niece. "But as long as you are going to do that, do so wisely, and don't put yourself in any unnecessary danger."

"Whatever you say," Jaina commented, the hint of a smile evident in her tone.

"Then let's go get him!" Mara said. "Red Squadron, on me! We've got a Kilrathi ace to kill!" Almost as one, Mara and Jaina pitched their X-wings into a sharp portside turn, and the other seven craft of their group followed them. Fireclaw and his own squad of Dralthi fighters rushed to meet them head on.

Jaina and Mara opened fire, concentrating on the lead fighter; that of Fireclaw. The Kilrathi pilot took a few of their shots to his shields, then to his hull as that failed. Just as his Dralthi started to buck from the attack, he threw it downward, avoiding any further damage. The remaining six in his flight wing took the worst of it, and they were either less experienced or less wise than their leader. They did not get out of the way, and as a result four of them exploded.

Unexpectedly, an explosion happened right behind Jaina; so close that it simply had to be one of the craft in her own group. Fireclaw, with all of his skill, had shifted back up and strafed one of the X-wings with his own fire, destroying it. Feeling her stomach start to sink, she glanced at the screen to see whom she had just lost.

"Sesha! No!" Came the anguished cry over the com. Jaina realised this could only have come from one of the Chiss pilots. Specifically the male one, Danath, who was flying as Red Seven. Judging from his pained yell, the one who had just died had been the other Chiss pilot; the female Sesha, Red Eight. A check of Jaina's screen confirmed this.

Through the Force, the young woman could feel the anguish and anger radiating from Danath over the loss of Sesha. In all the time that Jaina had known them, they had always been together, but always maintained a strong amount of discilpline in public. This was a form of behaviour that was pretty much normal for their people, the Chiss, and as a result, the true nature of the relationship between the two of them was never determined. But thanks to this tragedy, it was all too obvious now.

"Red Seven!" Mara called. "Danath, listen to me! I'm truly sorry for your loss, but it will do no good if you just give it all up now. I need you to remain focused, okay? If you can't do that, I am going to have to ask you to return to the _Dragon's Claw_. Understood?"

It took a few seconds for the Chiss male to respond, but eventually it came through. "I understand, Red Leader." Though he seemed as though he was willing to continue with the mission, it did not take the Force to tell that his will to live had gone away with Sesha. Unfortunately, there was not much that could be done about that now.

* * *

Still maintaining his position on the bridge of his flagship and looking out at the pitched battle, Thrakhath felt a roiling sea of emotions that were fighting with each other as fiercely as the ships out in space were. He had been entrusted by his grandfather to watch over the Sivar-Eshrad and see it through to the end, and yet he would be foolish to deny the fact that the odds of him winning this particular battle were not good at all. As much as he wanted to defeat his enemies and then continue the process of cleansing Naboo of life, he also knew it would do no good to simply let himself die in a hopeless battle.

He also knew that if he let himself die here, he would not achieve his destiny of becoming the Emperor of Kilrah. To die without achieving that honour was a prospect that absolutely terrified Thrakhath. And yet, at the same time, he knew that if he survived but also let their enemies disrupt the Eshrad (an act which had never been done in the entire recorded history of the Kilrathi) would seriously lower his reputation and influence.

But the Maxims of Xag, one of the key philosophies of Kilrathi culture, also taught that an enemy should not be judged upon the strength of their arm, but the cunning of their brain. Triumphs were to be embraced, but the Kilrathi were also taught to learn when to back away from defeat.

As much as it pained him to admit it, there was no denying that the Galactic Alliance and their Hapan cohorts would eventually win this day. Thrakhath's reputation could be regained. His life could not.

"Begin retreat manoeuvres," he grunted.

The bridge crew looked at their commander in surprise. In all the time they had served under him, he had never once ordered them to retreat. No, for him, it was always to the finish.

Their hesitation did not go unnoticed by Thrakhath. "Do all of you have something wrong with your hearing?" he demanded in a steadily rising tone. "I said to begin retreat manoeuvres!" This prompted them all into action, and they started scurrying to carry out their assigned orders.

Thrakhath closed his eyes and contemplated what could possibly await him upon his return to Kilrah. What his regal grandfather would say, and how this would affect their family's overall hold over the Empire.

"My Lord, I am afraid we have a problem," one of the officers, a Shintahr, called out hesitantly.

Growling in agitation, Thrakhath stormed over to them. "What?!" he practically shouted, pushing his angry face in the crew member who had spoken up.

Swallowing in fear, the Shintahr did his best to keep the tremor out of his voice. "I am afraid that we cannot jump out of here. The Alliance has an inderdictor ship in place that prevent us from jumping into hyperspace." Privately, the terrified commander prayed to Sivar that Thrakhath would not kill him out of simple sheer aggrevation; an act that had occurred on more than one occasion.

Luckily for him, Thrakhath chose to back off and turn away, taking a few moments to come up with a viable option. After about half a minute; a stretch of time that seemed like an eternity to all on the bridge; he turned back to his crew.

"Is it possible for us to attack the ship enough so that we can bring down the interdiction fields, or do we have to destroy it completely?"

The Shintahr that he had previously been terrifying turned to one of his analysts. This Second Fang looked less stressed, but not by a great deal. "No sir, the devices used to generate the interdiction fields are located within the four prominent bulges on the ship's hull. If we target them, we should be able to bring down the field and allow us to escape."

Thrakhath permitted himself the slightest of grins. This was all that he wanted right now. "Very well then. Open communications with all of our ships. Tell them that we are retreating back to our territory."

As if to punctuate the hopelessness of their current situation, another Kilrathi vessel erupted into flames. This time it was a Ralatha destroyer, one of the toughest vessels in their armada. This caused many of the bridge crew to flinch in shock as the explosion filled much of their view screen and left them in stunned silence.

This just left Thrakhath filled with a rage that he only just managed to keep under control. "Do it now," he told his crew in a tight and low voice that was laced with venom. This prompted his crew back into action.

The Shintahr came up to him. "My Lord," he inquired reluctantly, "what of the troops still on the surface of the planet."

Thrakhath did not even turn to look at the officer. "There is nothing more that we can do. They have served their purpose. All they can do now is go down fighting and attempt to take as much of the enemy down with them as possible. Let them die with honour."

* * *

"It appears that our enemies are starting to retreat," Ralgha nar Hhallas observed from the bridge of the _Ras Nik'hra_.

"Indeed they are," Leia amended, noting privately that Ralgha had referred to the Kilrathi as 'our enemies' as opposed to 'your enemies'. Furrowing her brow in deep thought, she turned to the Kilrathi noble towering over her. "Forgive me, Ralgha, but I am compelled to ask. How does it feel knowing that you have betrayed your people and now played a significant part in the deaths of many of them?"

To his credit, Ralgha did not appear to be offended by the question. However, the way he dipped his head slightly indicated that the truth and the nature of the question did upset him a little.

"I must admit, my heart does indeed feel heavy. And the very thought that this is only the beginning weighs rather heavily on my mind." He turned to Leia. "But I made a vow to myself and to my fellow rebels, reminding me that this is a necessary evil I must partake in. I do not hate my own people, only the Emperor, his family, and those that choose to follow them in their crusade. I also know that many, if not most, of my people are following them more out of a sense of duty than anything else." He turned to look back out the front viewport. "Unfortunately, that is a duty born out of lies and fabrications. Nonetheless, the Kilrathi fight to uphold that way of life, and because of that, they are enemies to my cause."

Ralgha sighed deeply. "But that does not make it any easier."

Leia gently laid a hand on his arm. "I imagine it wouldn't," she said softly.

Ralgha looked down at Leia's hand as it rested on his muscular arm. It was a form of comfort not regularly seen amongst the Kilrathi. It also seemed quite ludicrous, given the fact that he absolutely dwarfed her, and her hand alone was so much smaller than his. Nonetheless, it still served to ease a little bit of the oppressive tension he felt.

* * *

The Jedi were indeed slippery individuals. Fireclaw was willing to grant them that. After taking out one of their squad members, he had done his best to thin out the rest of their numbers. This had proven difficult, if not outright impossible. The X-wing pilots had dodged and jinked out of the way of nearly every projectile he had thrown at them, eventually scattering, so as not to make a bunched set of targets.

The Kilrathi ace figured that not all of the pilots were Jedi, but that did not change the fact that they were all well trained. It seemed one of the techniques they had learned was to get out of the danger zone if it got too hot. When Fireclaw had first thought of this, he felt a strong sense of arrogant pride over the concept that he alone was too much for even a single squad to handle. The rest of his squad had all fallen to the enemy, but he was still flying.

The second thought was that the Jedi and Alliance pilots were more cowardly that he originally expected. They cut and ran when things started to get too rough. Not like a true Kilrathi warrior, who stood fast in the face of great danger.

This particular line of thinking came to an abrupt halt when he got the sudden and unexpected broadcast from the _H'varkann_ , telling all Kilrathi ships to gun for the enemy interdictor vessel and prepare to jump out of the system back to the Empire.

Najji nar Ragitagha cursed. He was just starting to have fun. But orders were orders, especially if they came from the Crown Prince himself. He would have plenty of opportunities to destroy more enemies in later battles. Making a simple cursory glance, he could not find any more targets for him, and prepared to turn his Dralthi around, so as to head in the direction that was ordered by Thrakhath.

Gunning the throttle, Najji nar Ragitagha, known to others as Fireclaw, spun about in his customary 180-degree turn…

… only to see his own death bearing down upon him.

* * *

Every culture has their own set of legends and tales, upon which vital lessons were to be learned. Amongst the Kilrathi lore was the tale of Vorgath the Hunter. An arrogant individual, he had set out upon a hunt, lazily tracking a slow witted but fast creature across the plains to the dwelling grounds of its species. Tiring of the hunt, Vorgath had lunged at the prey, only to be set upon by dozens more of the creatures, who proceeded to tear his flesh from the bone.

Amongst the Kilrathi, the tale of Vorgath stood as a warning to those who became complacent while upon the hunt.

Had Najji nar Ragitagha remembered this tale, he might have survived.

* * *

"That was for Zekk and Rigel!" Jaina Solo crowed as her X-wing passed through the dissipating ball of fire and wreckage that was once Fireclaw's Dralthi.

After her squad had managed to break free from Fireclaw and his pursuit of them, Jaina had set about turning the tables on him. Remaining at a fair distance from him, she opened herself up to the Force, allowing her to keep track of any enemy vessels that got too close. She tracked him, anticipated his movements, and tracked him to the point where she could trap him in her kill zone. Even his impressive burnout would have done nothing to save him.

"You satisfied now, Jaina?" Mara aksed as she banked her own X-wing into position close to her niece's.

"For now," Jaina replied. She would not admit it to anyone, but she would only rest easily when they finally managed to locate Zekk and get him back safely.

"Good, because I just got word that the Kilrathi are bugging out."

"How can they hope to do that?" Jacen's voice drifted over the com channel. "We've got an interdiction field in place. They're not going anywhere."

Jaina looked over to her left, seeing a gathering of nine more X-wings not far from her own grouping. Blue Squadron had spearheaded much of the attack against the Kilrathi lines on the opposite side of where Red Squadron was operating. They had downed many vessels and broken their lines, and Jaina was glad to see that none of their number had been lost.

"I'm afraid that they might get away after all," Luke Skywalker commented gravely. "They are all converging on the interdictor's location and have opened fire."

"Well, can't we help?" cried Anja Gallandro.

"There's not enough time," Luke answered. "Look ahead."

Jaina turned her gaze to directly in front of her X-wing. The remaining Kilrathi vessels had converged on the interdictor, and were raking it with deadly laser fire. They were all in bad shape, even the gigantic dreadnought, and continued to balk under the constant barrage from the Alliance and Hapan ships. A series of eruptions blossomed from the interdictor's hull. The ship itself remained in one piece, but the equipment that was generating the gravity field was destroyed.

Taking that as their cue, the Kilrathi vessels stopped firing, and one by one, they shot forward, vanishing almost instantaneously. In less than a minute, they had all entered hyperspace. Only the ships belonging to the Galactic Alliance and the Hapes Consortium remained amidst the burning wreckage hovering in orbit over Naboo.

* * *

 **For the record, the _Wing Commander_ reference I hinted at? It was mentioning how Luke and Ralgha 'may have been old friends in another life'. Those who played the games would know that Ralgha nar Hhallas was a close friend of the protagonist Colonel Christopher Blair, who was played in the live action scenes by none other than Mark Hamill!**

 **x**

 **Kilrathi military ranks used in this chapter:**

 **Third Fang – Ensign**

 **Second Fang – Lieutenant**

 **Shintahr – Commander**


	20. Naboo V

**Happy New Year! And to celebrate, I'm giving you guys the latest chapter in my fanfic.**

 **And in response, you can give me some reviews!**

 **(Seriously, this fic has been up for almost a year, has nearly twenty chapters now, and the number of reviews I've gotten can be counted on just one hand. I understand _Star Wars_ gets a LOT of turnover on this site, but not getting any recognition is a bit of a downer.)**

 **x**

 **CHAPTER NINETEEN**

 **x**

 **x**

 **Theed, Naboo**

Good news often travelled fast, and this particular occasion certainly proved to be no exception to that rule. During the battle in orbit, those on the ground had only to look up and see the faint pinpoint flashes in the sky to know what was going on. But once the communication crew in Theed got on their radios, they quickly received word that the Alliance fleet had come to the rescue, being bolstered by ships from the Hapes Consortium, and they had proceeded to drive off the Kilrathi.

Once word of this spread, there was no stopping the raucous cheering throughout the city. Knowing that the enemy that remained on the planet's surface now had no hope of escape, some of the defenders even brazenly stuck their heads over the top of the barricade to yell jeers and taunts at them, such as 'your days are numbered' and the like.

One of Theed's citizens who chose to maintain a more reserved attitude was Captain Byrom Hyde. Instead, he took a deep sigh and bowed his head, privately offering thanks for their eventual rescue. When he lifted his head back up, he saw the Jedi called Zekk standing before him. He was leaning casually against a wall with a lopsided grin on his face.

"Told you they'd be back," he quipped.

* * *

Now that the city was no longer being hassled by Kilrathi fighter and bomber patrols, the defenders of Theed opted to cautiously lower the shields and allow the Alliance and Hapan dignitaries to land in the courtyard in front of the Royal Palace. Understandably, many locals wished to at least get a glimpse of their liberators, and so the guards were hard pressed to keep the masses at bay. Only certain individuals were allowed through. Two of them were Byrom Hyde and Zekk.

Luke was one of the first on the ground. He bowed formally to Byrom, then turned to clasp Zekk's hand. "I am glad to see that you managed to survive here, young Zekk. I would be truly dismayed to have lost one of my most promising alumnae."

Zekk gave a faint smile at his former teacher's comment, knowing that he was being serious and humourous at the same time. "I do what I can, Master Skywalker. I just hope that nobody got too worried for me."

Letting go of his student's hand, Luke considered offering a response, but an excited presence in the Force, which was approaching the two of them at a great speed, made him decide to keep quiet. Instead, the Grand Master of the Jedi Order took a casual step back and allowed the reunion he was expecting to take place.

Bolting from a position behind her uncle, Jaina Solo practically launched herself into Zekk's arms, and the man spun her around in a fierce hug. Luke simply stood back and smiled as the two best friends shared a touching reunion. However, he was pleasantly surprised when, instead of saying anything, Jaina pulled back a little and then kissed Zekk fully and deeply on the lips. The young man was surprised, but that did not stop him from returning the kiss. Luke decided to turn away to give them a little more privacy.

Finally pulling away from Jaina, Zekk looked down at her in surprise. While her greeting was a very good one, he still did not expect it. "I assume that meant that you missed me?" he asked.

Suddenly feeling embarrassment over what she had just done, Jaina stepped back out of Zekk's arms. "I, uh," she began uncertainly, "yeah. That's what it meant: I missed you." She paused. "Very, very much."

Zekk simply chuckled and wrapped her in another hug, privately enjoying her embarrassment. A few seconds later, the two were mobbed as the rest of their friends caught up with them, offering Zekk their own greetings.

* * *

Away from the reunions, the Alliance leaders met up with those of the Naboo. Byrom Hyde stood before the group and addressed them all. "On behalf of all the people of Naboo, I would like to offer the Galactic Alliance our heartfelt thanks in driving off the Kilrathi fleet."

"Do not just thank us," Leia pointed out diplomatically. "We had some help from the Hapes Consortium, but regretfully their leadership is occupied at the moment." In a way, that was stretching the truth. Technically speaking, Tenel Ka still represented the Hapans, but at the moment, she was part of the group welcoming back Zekk. Nonetheless, Leia was willing to grant her a reprieve from politics for the time being.

Byrom nodded. "Very well then, if you would be kind enough to pass along our thanks, I am sure we would all very much appreciate it."

Han clapped his hands together. "Great. We've taken care of the Kilrathi and won back the planet. What next?"

"I am afraid it is not as easy as that," Byrom added darkly. "You have driven off their orbital fleet, and for that, I am intensely grateful, but there is still a very heavy Kilrathi presence on Naboo. And although I hesitate to do so, I must ask you for further assistance."

Now it was Mara who spoke up. "We were told that the Kilrathi are here because they are conducting some sort of ritual slaughter for their religion. So understandably, there would still be plenty of them on the planet, and you want us to take care of them, correct?"

"Correct," Byrom confirmed simply.

"I hesitate to ask this," Leia said tentatively, "but do you have any idea how many of your people have fallen victim to the Kilrathi in this sick ritual of theirs?"

Byrom sighed. "Reports are somewhat sketchy but from what we can tell, the Human population has suffered over a quarter of a million casualties; most them being innocent civilians. Our Gungan neighbours have fared worse, with reports of around seven hundred thousand dead."

The silence that fell over the group was oppressive, and was only broken when Luke uttered, "That's close to a million people."

"This is why I think any form of religion is a bad idea," Han muttered. Nobody gave any indication of hearing him.

Byrom chose to break the oppressive cloud that had settled on them. "However, we may have caught a break. The Kilrathi tended to take their ritual slaughter in shifts; while some were down here, the rest were up there. Every now and then, however, there would be a lull in action down here, and it seems as though you attacked at the moment of one of these lulls. That means that most of the attack force was up in orbit when you attacked, so they are either dead or they chose to escape. There is still a sizeable number of Kilrathi on the surface, but not as much as it could have been."

Luke processed the captain's words. "That means that we have the opportunity to hunt them down and eliminate any remaining holdouts on the surface." Byrom nodded in response. "Very well then." And just like that, Luke Skywalker shifted into the persona of a military leader that he had adopted as a young man fighting against the Galactic Empire. "We're going to need to bring some troops down here, and the Jedi can lead the attack. We may also need to get some Hapan soldiers as well, and if you can spare a few, Captain Hyde, we would very much appreciate it."

Byrom Hyde nodded in agreement. "We'll need some troops to maintain the defence of Theed, but I think we can spare some volunteers. I'll send word out amongst the men."

* * *

With the decision to begin mobilising against the remnants of the Kilrathi ground soliders, the combined militaries rushed around attempting to prepare themselves for the final push.

But for the time being, the circle of young Jedi friends chose to hang back and simply observe the comings and goings. Situated at a chunk of wall that had been felled in the fight, some sat on it, others leaned against it, and the rest sat on the ground.

Although not a Jedi, Anja Gallandro was also amongst them. She leaned against the rubble, the jacket of her flight suit tied comfortably around her waist, and her arms crossed over her chest as she gazed over the frenzied mob.

"This sucks," she ground out. "We just busted our asses up in orbit, and now we've got to throw them back in the fire by fighting these cats up close? I signed on with the Alliance as a pilot, not infantry."

From his position sitting on the ground next to her, Raynar gave an exasperated sigh. "Anja, if you don't want to take part in the ground fighting, then there is no rule that says you have to. Either way, I would prefer it if you would just stop bitching about it." Though his comment was meant to be an insult, the core of it clearly came from simply being tired.

"I don't know about you guys," Jacen interjected, "but I'm going to be joining in on the fighting. I have something of a vested interest in this whole thing."

"(What do you mean?)" Lowbacca growled wearily.

"Don't you read the history files?" Jacen asked. "My grandmother used to be queen of this planet. Queen, for Force's sake! That makes me royalty!"

"I thought the people of Naboo _elected_ their monarch," Tahiri pointed out, her tone indicating that she was needling the male Solo.

To his credit, Jacen did not falter. "Mere details, my dear Tahiri," he replied with a dismissive wave of his hand. The others just gave dismissive snorts.

Zekk was the next to speak. "Well, whatever your reasons, I just want to say thanks to you guys for coming back for me." He reached down and squeezed Jaina's hand. The two of them sat up on top of the block of rubble, and since being reunited, she had not left his side.

"We don't leave anyone that we care about behind," Jaina pointed out, squeezing his hand in return. "After all, Uncle Luke always told us that we were stronger together."

"I'll second that," Jacen agreed as he looked out over the scurrying soldiers. "And it looks like we're going to need that in the next few days."

* * *

 **Bit shorter than most of the other chapters, but I hope it was okay. If anything, I just wanted to show the war weariness that seems to affect every combatant from time to time.**


	21. Vukar Tag I

**CHAPTER TWENTY**

 **x**

 **x**

 **Vukar Tag**

 **Kilrathi space**

When compared with other planets, even those within the Kilrathi sphere of influence, Vukar Tag seemed to hold little value. It was little more than a giant ball of dust, with a relatively flat surface, hardly any mountains or valleys, and only a handful of animal life. It was located towards the edge of Kilrathi territory, far from the glittering jewel of Kilrah, or the fertile orb of Ghorah Khar.

However, to the Kiranka family, it held a certain emotional significance for them. The former Empress Graknala had made her home here long ago, and the palace she had erected remained the only structure on the surface. The current Emperor remembered the times he had spent there during his youth, playing under his mother's watchful eye.

He also knew of the silent contempt that was whispered amongst the nobles of the other clans; how Graknala was believed to have been of low blood, and her only claim to her mate, the Emperor's father, had been one of mere attractiveness. Even now, the ruling monarch bristled at the thought of his mother being referred to with such scorn.

But that was not the important issue at the moment. No, he would have to deal with something more important. He would have to deal with the unexpected failing of his desired heir. The one he had entrusted to lead the Sivar-Eshrad. The issue had been one of such great effect that the Emperor had decided not to meet up with his grandson at Kilrah, so as not to display the tattered and badly damaged remnants of the attack fleet at the heart of their Empire. Instead, he had given orders to meet here at Vukar Tag, the ancestral recreation home of their family. Thrakhath had reluctantly agreed, and the significance would not be lost on him.

* * *

The Emperor stood on the bridge of his flagship; the steely gaze of both his natural eye and his artificial one surveyed the dusty orb in front of him. He remembered the occasions when his mother took him there to her holiday home, the days he spent hunting the various creatures that had managed to survive its harsh environment. He dimly wondered what she would think of her son if she knew what he had done for their people. How he had set them upon a campaign that could bring the entire galaxy to its knees before the Kilrathi race.

And now, unexpectedly, his beloved grandson had let him down.

As if on cue, the Emperor heard the doors to the bridge open up behind him. From the corner of his vision, he noticed his personal guard tense up slightly. Even though they all knew full well who was approaching the Emperor, these guards had been trained not to let their guard down for even one instant. If experience in the Kilrathi way of life was any lesson, it was that individuals were seldom what they claimed to be. But the ruler knew that his visitor would not attempt anything rash. At least, not against him.

A slight ruffle of fabric indicated that the person had dropped into a kneeling position. "I abase myself before my Emperor," Thrakhath uttered with great humility. Clearly, he knew the folly of his actions, and he had come here knowing full well what could await him. The Emperor allowed himself the faintest ghost of a smile. Yes, his grandson would indeed make a fine leader someday.

"I will speak with Thrakhath alone," the Emperor commanded simply. Taking their cue, the guards began to file out of the bridge, along with the small number of crew that were stationed there. The bridge was pretty well secured, so there was no reason for any of them to be concerned. And even if they were, the fear of disobeying the Emperor was a far greater concern for them.

Quickly, the Emperor and his grandson were the only ones left on the bridge. The former had never moved from his position of gazing out at Vukar Tag, and the latter remained crouched in submission. It stayed that way for almost a minute; the tension palpable.

"You have failed me, Thrakhath," the Emperor finally said.

"I have, my Lord," his grandson uttered, offering no form of resistance whatsoever.

"I entrusted you with a great and noble task; overseeing the Sivar-Eshrad. And for a while, you performed this task admirably. Many a victim had their lives offered up to Sivar. I should know; I have read the reports." He paused for a while, then slightly turned his head to the right, allowing his natural eye to spot Thrakhath in his peripheral vision. "And then all of a sudden, our enemies massed their forces together and launched an attack. You put up an impressive fight, but in the end, you fled back here with your tail between your legs."

Thrakhath drew in a shaky breath. "My Lord, I assure you, the enemy attacked us in great numbers, and they caught us by surprise. If we had not escaped, then surely we would have perished."

"Indeed," the Emperor mused with a hum. "I have looked through the reports submitted by those commanders who survived the attack. It seems that the Alliance brought in some assistance from one of their allies, the… Happens Consotrium?"

"Hapan Consortium," Thrakhath supplied.

"Ah, yes. I will admit that 'Happens Consortium' sounds a little bit ridiculous, don't you think?"

Despite his nervousness, Thrakhath permitted himself a faint chuckle. "Yes, I suppose it would, my Lord."

The Emperor nodded and turned back to look out the window. "Anyway, the Alliance and their Hapan cohorts launched a surprise attack, pinning you in on almost all sides, and preventing you from escaping by utilising one of their interdictor vessels, correct?"

"Yes, my Lord."

"So, even though you knew how important the Sivar-Eshrad was, you chose to save what was left of your fleet, and threw all of them in the direction of the interdictor, whereby you disabled it, and allowed your forces to escape. Is that correct?"

Thrakhath did not want to allow himself to feel any form of hope, lest it turn out to be false, but something told him that there was something in his grandfather's voice that sounded something like… admiration?

"Um, yes, my Lord," he managed to respond. "That is correct."

The Emperor hummed in thought for a moment, then turned around to face his grandson. "An admirable strategy, if I do say so myself."

Completely thrown, Thrakhath managed to choke out, "You are not angry about the Eshrad?"

The Emperor sighed. "I will admit that a large part of me is still annoyed by your failure, given that the ceremony is perhaps the most important custom we have. However, the Maxims of Xag also tell us that we must also back away from defeat. You saw that there was little chance of you pulling off a victory in the battle, and so you chose to preserve yourself to fight another day." Thrakhath could not disagree with this logic, as he had thought the exact same thing when he came to the decision to retreat.

"Not only that," the Emperor continued, "but the way in which you escaped is worthy of recognition. The enemy had you trapped with an interdictor, and yet you took your whole fleet and attacked it, disabling its field and allowing you to escape. And I am sure that you took out as many of the enemy as you could."

"Yes, my Lord, I did." Thrakhath finally permitted a feral grin to cross his features.

The Emperor came to stand over him. "Then the taint is not as dark as we once thought. Besides, there will be plenty of opportunities to wash it away." He made simple gesture with his claw for Thrakhath to stand, which he did. "It may be true that I have had others killed for failing me in lesser acts. But the fact is, Thrakhath, you are simply too valuable to throw away like that. And after what happened to your brother, the burden of taking control of our Empire will one day fall to you. Who am I to deny you that right? No, I have seen great things in your futures. Great things, indeed."

Thrakhath had actually been the second of two sons fathered by Gilkarg. His elder brother, Ratha, had been in line before him to become Emperor. But during the battle at Bakura about a year earlier, Ratha had been commanding Kilrathi forces against the Alliance. Towards the end of the skirmish, his fighter had been destroyed, and he had been forced to eject. The feelings of disgrace at being defeated so easily and thoroughly at the beginning of the war had been too much for Ratha, and he had removed his helmet, allowing himself to suffocate in the vacuum. It was this act that allowed Thrakhath to become Gilkarg's sole heir.

The Emperor began a slow, measured pace around the outer platform of the bridge. "By the way, those warriors of ours that you were forced to leave on the surface of Naboo, there will be no rescue?"

"No," Thrakhath confirmed. "They are Kilrathi warriors, and they will fight to the death to bring themselves honour." He paused. "Unless you are willing to send a rescue mission."

"No," the Emperor replied dismissively. "By now, our enemies will have reinforced the planet and will be in the process of hunting those warriors down. There is little need for us to risk any more of our warriors to save a mere handful." He turned to Thrakhath. "Just remember, it is decisions like that which you may be forced to make when you become Emperor. I trust you will be ready?"

"Is the decision I just made not proof enough, my Lord?"

The Emperor grinned. "I suppose it is." He continued with his pacing, Thrakhath matching him step-by-step. "The coming days will test us greatly, grandson. Your father is in the final stages of preparing his attack on Centrepoint Station, and the successful capture of that weapon may very well be what tips the outcome of the war in our favour."

"It is a great gambit my father is playing."

"Indeed it is. However, I wish to discuss with you some of our other projects. Specifically, the ones that you are overseeing at Ghorah Khar and K'tithrak Mang."

* * *

 **Ok, we're getting closer to the climax of this story!**

 **By the way, Vukar Tag is a Kilrathi world that I read about in the tie-in novels.**


	22. Naboo VI

**CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE**

 **x**

 **x**

 **Galactic Alliance Star Destroyer** _ **Dragon's Claw**_

 **In orbit above Naboo**

The clean up had proceeded much more fluidly than originally expected. When the Alliance and the Hapans had driven the Kilrathi fleet from orbit above Naboo, they knew that the forces who had remained on the surface of the planet would be a problem. They were also aware that the Kilrathi soldiers, being the bloodthirsty individuals that they were, would fight tooth and nail - or in their case, claw - to take out as many adversaries as they could before falling.

However, the sudden loss of their fleet had actually thrown the ground troops into disarray, and they found themselves without any proper leadership. It seemed as though even the Kilrathi needed a good leader to keep them in check, and once they were gone, they lost what little focus they had. Therefore, when the process to clean up the ground forces began, the Jedi-led troops found it to be easier than originally thought.

That did not mean they suffered no casualties, of course. The Kilrathi still proved themselves to be deadly combatants, and they continued to fight ferociously. In the end, however, it was only a matter of time before the combined forces took out the last holdouts of Kilrathi resistance, and the planet of Naboo was once again returned to the full control of the Humans and Gungans who called it home. But the scars from the occupation were all too apparent, and likely would be for quite a while.

"You know, I thought that I had seen the very worst that this galaxy had to offer," Wedge Antilles said, as he stood at the front viewscreen of the _Dragon's Claw_. The seemingly serene blue-green orb of Naboo hung before him. "I battled the Empire, the Yuuzhan Vong, and several others who threatened peace across the galaxy. Throughout those wars, many terrible events occurred. Like the destruction of Alderaan, Sernpidal, and many other planets. Or the terrifying capablilites of weapons such as the Death Stars, the Sun Crushers, or the Galaxy Gun. The sheer devastation wrought upon people and planets. And through it all, I kept hoping that we would see the last of it, at least in my own lifetime." He turned to the man standing next to him. "I guess that was too much to hope for, wasn't it?"

Luke Skywalker simply nodded. "I suppose it was," he murmured thoughtfully. He had been only nineteen years old when saw the charred remains of his aunt and uncle after they had been brutally murdered by Imperial stormtroopers. He had fled Tattooine afterwards, following Obi-wan Kenobi to Alderaan. When they got there, however, they found the planet had been reduced to an asteroid field. But as terrible as those events had been, it later turned out that they had been only the start of a mortifying tableau of events that seemed to continue to this day.

Feeling Mara's familiar presence come up next to him, Luke reached out and slipped an arm around his wife, simply taking comfort in her presence. She knew how this affected him, and she wished to console him in any way that he could. Though Naboo was just one of many worlds devastated, the fact that his mother came from there did factor into things.

"We'll get even with the Kilrathi," Mara whispered to her husband. Luke only nodded and held her closer.

* * *

Later, the group gathered in the briefing room of the _Dragon's Claw_. Luke and Mara were there, as were Han and Leia, accompanied by Lumpwaroo and Em-Teedee. The Solo twins and their friends were also present, and nobody was surprised that Jacen and Tenel Ka sat next to each other. Still, out of politeness, they all kept their silence.

Ralgha nar Hhallas was present too, but he still sat off to the side. Many were still uncertain about the Kilrathi, but the fact that he played a vital role in liberating Naboo from the bloody claws of his own people actually did a great deal to paint him in a positive picture for most people. Amazingly, quite a number of the _Dragon's Claw_ crew had come up and congratulated him on what he had done, which made Ralgha quite happy.

One of the individuals who thanked him had been Vua Rapuung. As someone who had been forced to turn against his own people for the greater good of the galaxy, he understood completely what Ralgha had been feeling. The Yuuzhan Vong warrior was not present, however, choosing instead to take some downtime with the rest of the pilots.

As the commander of the ship, Wedge Antilles took place up the front. Beside him was the large holographic screen used for displaying images and plans. Right now, this was blank.

Wedge addressed the group. "Okay, first up; I've got some good news, some bad news, and some _really_ bad news.

"The good news is that we have finally succeeded in driving the Kilrathi off the planet. The latest reports indicate that the final holdouts fell to our combined forces less than two hours ago." Here he paused to allow some brief cheers and applause from the group. When it died down, he continued. "The Queen of the Naboo and the leader of the Gungans have sent a communiqué to us, offering their heartfelt thanks and appreciation for their efforts. Of course, I reminded them that they contributed more than their fair share, and so they should congratulate themselves as well. Modestly, they agreed." This actually brought forward a slight chuckle from most of the group, even from Ralgha.

Wedge's smile faded after this. "And now for the bad news." Here, the group went quiet. "We have been crunching the numbers, and it seems as though the Kilrathi were certainly thorough in their little… campaign." He was sorely tempted to use the word 'massacre', but held back. "Final indications show that the Naboo suffered close to three hundred thousand casualties. The Gungans fared worse, with almost _seven_ hundred thousand. Collectively, the Kilrathi slaughtered about one million people."

The silence that descended upon the room was so oppressive and palpable; one could have cut it with a blade. The number that Wedge had listed had thrown them all into shock. A full million dead, and all in the name of some sick religious ritual.

Wedge swept his gaze across the room, coming to land upon Ralgha nar Hhallas. The Kilrathi noble's expression was not so much of digust and horror as it was of shame and guilt. His own people had done this, and yet he had betrayed them so that events like this would not be repeated. Wedge could only imagine the turmoil of emotions storming through the Kilrathi's mind, and he felt an intense level of sympathy for him.

Wedge cleared his throat, getting everybody's attention back on him. "Unfortunately, there is nothing we can do about that now. However there is something we _can_ do, which, ironically, brings us to the _really_ bad news. We have received reports of a Kilrathi fleet entering hyperspace recently. This fleet is larger than most other ones we have encountered, so all indications state that it is an attack fleet. The commander in charge of it is one Gilkarg nar Kiranka."

"Gilkarg?" Jaina echoed. "Isn't that…?"

"The Emperor's son, yes. And Thrakhath's father," Wedge answered. At the same time, the projection screen next to him activated, and an overhead map of the galaxy appeared. "Trajectory shows that his fleet made a long range jump that originated from within Kilrathi territory. Perhaps from the capital world of Kilrah itself."

"Is he coming here?" asked Jacen.

"No, he isn't," Wedge replied. "Originally we presumed that he was leading an attack fleet to hit us here at Naboo in order to either bail his son out, or to get revenge on us for busting up their little Eshrad ceremony. Turns out that is not the case."

The map of the galaxy focused on the lower half, where the Kilrathi Empire, the Naboo system, and a significant chunk of the Core Worlds and Rim were located. A blue dot appeared, denoting their current position at Naboo, and a red arrow slowly extended from the Kilrathi territory, moving slowly upward, away from them.

"After analysing the trajectory of Gilkarg's fleet, we determined that he was not heading along the Rim, but rather inwards to the Core Worlds. It is unlikely that they have dropped out of hyperspace yet, but we have determined their most likely destination." On screen, the red arrow stopped, pointing to a location on the map, which became illuminated by an orange dot. A label appeared next to it, stating 'CORELLIA'.

"They're attacking Corellia?" Han asked with more than a little alarm. As a native of that planet, it was understandable that this news would have an effect of him.

"That what we originally thought," Wedge replied. He himself was from Corellia, but he managed to keep a certain amount of calm about him. "But then we asked ourselves, 'what in the Corellian system could the Kilrathi possibly want that warrants them launching an attack?'. I mean, look at the map; between Corellia and their own territory, there are virtually no systems under their control. They are bypassing them all in order to attack Corellia. But for what reason?"

"They're after Centrepoint Station," Luke deduced.

"Exactly," Wedge confirmed. "They have been sending scouts out into the galaxy, looking for something they can exploit, and it seems natural that having a weapon as powerful as Centrepoint would certainly appeal to them."

The room dropped silent. Everyone knew the powerful capabilities of Centrepoint Station. To have such a deadly instrument in the hands of an enemy like the Kilrathi was a sobering prospect indeed. With it, they could devastate entire systems with mere impunity. Of the people in the room, only Ralgha was unaware of the implications, but the silence from his companions was more than enough to give him pause.

"We have to stop Gilkarg," Jacen announced.

"That is where it gets interesting," Wedge continued. "Have any of you been paying attention to the news regarding the Corellian system lately?"

Mass confusion spread through the room at the General's comment, but they all nonetheless answered 'no' or shook their heads. Truth be told, being forced to fight against the Kilrathi had left them little time to engage in other pursuits. Paying attention to current affairs counted as one of these pursuits.

Wedge explained to all of them. "The Corellian system is undergoing a massive revolution across all of the planets. An organisation called the Five Worlds Liberation Front had usurped the governments and seized control of everything, including the station. They were counting on the Alliance being distracted by the war against the Kilrathi, so that we would not notice what they were doing. Turns out they were right." This last sentence was delivered as a more of a mutter.

"What do they want?" Mara asked.

"Simple. They want the Corellian system to be completely independent from the Alliance, and are not above using force to gain this goal. From what we can tell, they are more than willing to kill anyone who gets in their way."

"Sounds like my scumbag cousin," Han commented. "I would not be surprised if he was part of this 'Libertaion Front' group."

Wedge gave Han a sympathetic smile. "Funny you should say that, Han. Turns out that your 'scumbag' cousin Thracken is not only part of this," he clicked a button on the projector controls, and Thracken Sal-Solo's sneering visage appeared on the screen, "he's actually the leader of the whole thing. This entire coup was his own doing."

"What?!" Han practically shouted, and Leia had to hold him back to prevent him from launching himself out of his seat.

"Um, I apologise if I am overstepping any boundaries here," Ralgha began tentatively, "I am merely speaking out of sheer curiosity. But this 'Thracken' individual; would I be correct if I were to assume he was some kind of relative to Han?"

"Yeah," Han snarled, still glaring at the image of Thracken. "He's my cousin. And the guys worse than about a dozen Kilrathi put together." He finally calmed down and glanced sideways at Ralgha. "Uh, no offence, buddy."

"I take none," the Kilrathi noble replied politely.

Luke got up and stepped towards Ralgha. "You will have to forgive Han. His relationship with Thracken is a… touchy subject. His cousin is guilty of many crimes, such as bigotry towards anyone who is not a Human, attempting to overthrow the rightful government of Corellia - twice now, it would seem - , rebellion against the New Republic, and collaborating with the Yuuzhan Vong in the last war."

Ralgha furrowed his brow in confusion. "You mentioned he is prejudiced against non-Humans, and yet he collaborated with the Yuuzhan Vong, who are clearly _not_ Human. That seems a conflict of interest."

Jaina leaned forward to explain. "Thracken may be a bigot, but he is also willing to overlook such things if it will help him achieve his goals. There are also two other races in the Corellian system; the Drall and the Selonians, but he'd tolerate them if it would help achieve his goals."

"Is there a change he will attempt to forge an alliance with the Kilrathi?"

"Not likely," Jacen spoke up. "Thracken's evil and bigoted, but he's also smart. He worked with the Yuuzhan Vong in the last war, and that ended badly for him. I doubt he's going to risk it a second time with the Kilrathi."

"Exactly," Wedge continued as Luke took his seat again. "We've sent some spy probes into the system, and it looks like the Five Worlds Liberation Front has amassed a sizeable fleet. It's about the size of one of our fleets, or that of the Kilrathi, but I'd say it's all they have, so naturally, they would put it where they need it most. And fifty points if you can guess where that is."

"Centrepoint Station," several members of the audience answered in unison.

"Exactly," Wedge declared. "So, in a nutshell, we're going to have a Kilrathi fleet, led by the Emperor's son, facing off against a group of Corellian rebels led by Thracken Sal-Solo, and both of them will be seeking to use Centrepoint Station for their own purposes. I don't think I need to tell you that such a situation is not good for us, or for the Galactic Alliance in general."

The members of the audience responded in several different and subtle ways, but they all said the same thing; no, it would not bode well for them at all.

"Therefore, we have only one option; we have to take Centrepoint Station for ourselves. Even if the rest of the system remains in the hands of Thracken's rebels, as long as we can deprive them of the station, then we greatly weaken their resolve and their ability to hurt us. And it goes without saying that the Kilrathi must _never_ gain control of it."

"We also have to make sure that the Kilrathi do not attack any of the planets in the system," Han put in.

Wedge nodded sombrely. "I agree that is something else to consider. But I am afraid that it will have to be considered a secondary objective." Seeing Han open his mouth to protest, Wedge cut him off. "Han, I know that upsets you, but don't forget that I am a Corellian too. In all likelihood, the Kilrathi will probably be too focused on Centrepoint to worry about the planets. But even if they do attack any of them, it will still be preferable to what could happen should they gain control of the station." He lowered his voice. "And believe me, it took me a great deal to reach that decision."

Han lowered his eyes to the deck and nodded.

Drawing his gaze back up to the assembled group, the General addressed them all. "We have begun drawing up plans for an attack on Centrepoint Station, and we have no time to waste. We cannot fail in this mission, for the results could be more than any of us can bear." He sighed. "I just hope that the Force will definitely be with us on this one, because I don't know what else could be."

* * *

 **In case you can't tell... we're heading into the climax here. And it's going to be a big one!**


	23. Centrepoint Station I

**CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO**

 **x**

 **x**

 **Dreadnought** _ **Pride of Corellia**_

 **Stationed near Centrepoint Station, Corellian system**

When Thracken Sal-Solo had put his plan into motion, he knew that he would need some serious firepower to back it up. Sure, he may have had a large number of ships from the militaries across all five of the inhabited worlds beacking him up, but even then, they still paled when compared to what others could bring to the party.

So, perhaps out of a sheer sense of pride, Thracken had made deals with scientists, engineers and shipbuilders, working mostly out of the Kiris shipyards, located at the fringe of the Corellian system. He had convinced them to start work on a new type of ship. A dreadnought with enough firepower to do battle with the likes of a Star Destroyer or Mon Calamari cruiser.

Perhaps vainly, he had christened it _Pride of Corellia_. And it was the flagship of the combined Five Worlds fleet. Consisting of a somewhat bulbous egg-shaped hull, with eight powerful engines at the back, and all along the exterior of the ship, deadly weapon emplacements dotted its otherwise smooth skin.

Situated towards the heart of the Five Worlds fleet, the massive dreadnought seemed to positively dominate the other ships. Of course, it still paled in comparison to the ancient and titanic bulk of Centrepoint Station.

Thracken Sal-Solo stood on the bridge of the _Pride of Corellia_ , his hands clasped behind his back and his cold, piercing gaze looking out towards Centrepoint. He had been dedicated to his goal from the very beginning, but it never changed the fact that the very balance of power seemed to hinge upon Centrepoint Station. The enigmatic facility would determine whether his plan would meet with ultimate success, or if it would come crashing down around him.

He closed his eyes and let out a low grumble; one that nobody around him would be able to hear. The very thought of his plan failing was enough to make Thracken sick to his stomach. Throughout his life, he had made several plays for power, and no matter what he did, no matter how dedicated he was, they always seemed to fail. He had tried to secure independence for the Corellian system fifteen years earlier, but that had not panned out the way he wanted to. No, his damned cousin Han, and his family, had all managed to throw a massive wrench into his plans. Then, just a few years earlier, he had made a massive mistake of cooperating with the Yuuzhan Vong and their turncoat lackeys, the Peace Brigade. That had also turned out badly for him.

No, he had failed too many times in the past, and he would not let it happen again! His current plan had proceeded flawlessly so far, and he would rather die than see it fall apart. He would do everything he could to ensure that he succeeded. But it still all hinged on getting Centrepoint Station up and running again.

As if in direct response to his thinking, one of the communication officers on the dreadnought's bridge spoke up. "Sir, we are receiving a communication from the team on the station."

Thracken gritted his jaw, attempting to clamp down on the sudden fear and anger he felt. "Put it through," commanded tightly, using only his lips.

The screen before him crackled to life, and the visage of Doral, with his round face and thinning dark hair, appeared. He seemed noticeably less stressed than the last time, but Thracken swore to himself that if the man were to give him any more unsatisfactory news, he would take a shuttle over to the station, and personally choke the life out of the cowardly researcher.

"Mr Doral," Thracken began, "I hope for your sake that you have good news for me."

Visibly swallowing, Doral did his best to calm himself before beginning. Regardless of whether or not the news was good, a person would have to be blind not to see that individuals like Thracken Sal-Solo scared the hell out of him. To be honest, this was how Thracken preferred it. As he had said before: fear was an efficient motivator.

"Repairs on the station have been completed, sir," Doral began shakily. "We have also begun to restore power to certain parts of the facility, in particular to its offensive weapons system. The Starbuster mechanism is also being powered up again, and if our calculations are correct, then it should be ready in about an hour. Maybe two, at the most." He concluded his report, and waited for his leader to give his appraisal.

Thracken raised his eyebrow in thought. Doral's report was actually better than he originally anticipated. He had thought that it would be several days before he could use the weapon against his enemies. But if what Doral was saying was true, then it cold be done much sooner. He permitted himself a faint smile.

"I must say, Mr Doral, that you and your crew have certainly outdone yourselves in this little endeavour." On the screen Doral's face took on a look of complete surprise. "I will contact you again in a few hours for updates. I do not mean to be premature, but I have a feeling that every free citizen of the Corellian system will be thanking you for your hard work and ingenuity."

The look on Doral's face shifted from surprise to outright shock. He had done his best work to garner some favour from Thracken, but to get such a response was simply mind-blowing. He seemed to stammer to find a coherent response, but on Thracken's order, the video cut out before he could say anything.

Almost casually, Thracken made his way back to his command chair and sat down. Despite himself, he allowed a ghost of a smile to touch his face. It seemed that things were indeed starting to come together.

"You seem rather pleased," remarked a voice from Thracken's left. Turning his head, he saw the aged Corellian officer named Cavil.

"I have every reason to be," Thracken replied. "After all this time, it seems that things are finally starting to go my way; the way that they were always meant to. At long last, the Corellian system will be free from the tyranny of the Galactic Alliance, and achieve its true destiny."

Cavil nodded. "A noble cause, indeed. But remember not to let your ego get in the way of things. For all we know, things could turn against us at a moment's notice."

The new Corellian despot took a moment to glare at his officer. "Are you always this pessimistic, Cavil?"

"I am a realist," Cavil replied evenly. "I know far too well that pride comes before the fall. I have enough experiences in life to assure me of that. Remember that I used to serve the Empire; a force that was perceived by nearly everyone as being practically invincible. That view even helped to reinforce the Imperial view that they were indeed invincible, and yet, the Rebels defeated us." He fixed his leader with a firm look. "Just make sure that you do not fall into the same trap.

To his credit, Thracken did not seem the least bit cowed by Cavil. "As much as I appreciate your concern, not to mention your lessons on life, need I remind you that I have everything under control? I am well aware of all the potential faults, but at this moment we have Centrepoint firmly under our control, and it is just about to be restored to full power. Should any enemy choose to attack us, we possess enough firepower to deal with them." He pushed himself out of his chair, meeting Cavil's gaze. "It would be best for you to put such concerns out of your mind for time being, Captain. Right now, I would like you to see to our defence fleet. In all likelihood, an attack on us is inevitable, and I want our forces prepared."

Cavil stood up straight and snapped off a slaute. "Very well, sir." He spun on his heel and marched off of the bridge.

Heaving a quiet sigh, Thracken sat back down in the command chair, resting his chin on his fist and looking out the front screen. Before him, he saw part of the combined Five Worlds fleet, a section of the impressive bulk of Centrepoint Station, and the sweeping panorama of space.

Despite the reprimanding he had given Cavil, there was one thing that seemed obvious; an attack was imminent. The Galactic Alliance was not about to let an asset as valuable as Centrepoint be left in the hands of a rebellious world such as Corellia. Especially when an individual the likes of Thracken was the one with his finger on its trigger, and was inclined to point it in the direction of a valuable world such as Coruscant. No, they would do anything they could to get their hands back on it.

Not even the Alliance's current enemy could be counted out. Admittedly, Thracken knew very little about the Kilrathi, but what he had garnered seemed to indicate that they practically lived off destruction and bloodshed. In all likelihood, they too would have jumped at the opportunity to take the station and use it for their own purposes.

Thacken felt his lip curl in contempt. The Kilrathi outlook on battle seemed so typical of them. So… _alien_. A Human would never be so uncivilised.

* * *

 **Ralatha-class destroyer** _ **Tresk'Pahl**_

 **In hyperspace bound for Corellian system**

 _This will be my finest hour_.

That was the thought that repeated over and over in the mind of Gilkarg nar Kiranaka. Standing on the bridge of the Ralatha-class destroyer known as the _Tresk'Pahl_ , he gazed out the front screen at the swirling aura of hyperspace. Though Kilrathi technology was not quite as advanced as that of the Galactic Alliance, or many of the other civilisations of the galaxy, they still possessed simple enough aspects like hyperspace, as well as a few others that allowed them to bring their conflict to the rest of the galaxy.

While he did wonder why the Kilrathi did not make a move on the rest of the galaxy at any point in the past, Gilkarg was not complaining. After all, this was _his_ time, not that of anyone who lived centuries in the past.

The ability to travel the stars had come to the Kilrathi by the benevolent race called the Utara. And once that happened, the Kilrathi had wiped out the Utara with mere impunity. And then other races had met the same fate. But this collective of many different races, this Galactic Alliance, had by far been their greatest challenge. They had not been wiped out with such ease.

Of course, that would change today, once the Kilrathi managed to secure the massive and powerful space facility known as Centrepoint Station. With that weapon in their paws, every planet, every location, and every species across the galaxy could be wiped out in an instant. And he, Gilkarg nar Kiranka, supreme commander of the Kilrathi military, and heir to the throne of Kilrah, would go down in history as the one who had made it happen. He would show his father that he had more than what it took to lead their people to glory!

This will indeed be his finest hour.

A shuffling of feet behind Gilkarg drew his attention away from his musings and visions of power. "You summoned me, my Lord," came the gruff voice if the individual.

Turning around, the supreme commander saw that the speaker was one of the finest pilots in the fleet he currently commanded. Khajja nar Ja'targk, otherwise known as 'Fang', was one of the most efficient and calmest Kilrathi pilots ever. Many of their species got into a rage when they were killing their enemies, and more often than not, this would affect their piloting. Khajja was one of the few who did not get affected by this. Instead, he remained focused on his task no matter what. For this reason, Gilkarg had chosen him to lead his fighter squadrons into battle.

Another thing that set Khajja apart was the fact that his _hrai_ , the Ja'targk, was not one of the Eight Noble Clans. Like the Hhallas, they were an offshoot of the Ragitagha line.

"Khajja," Gilkarg addressed the fighter commander, "our time draws close indeed. We will be dropping out of hyperspace momentarily, and it is essential that we spring our attack whilst we still have some form of surprise. These enemies are not of the Alliance, but from what we can tell, they will still fight savagely to defend the objective. I am counting on you to engage the fighters and keep them off the capital ships. I trust you can do this?"

Khajja inclined his head forward. "Of course, my Lord. I will not fail you."

Gilkarg gave a firm nod. "Very well. Get all of your pilots into their ships. Our time to make history grows near."

* * *

From the moment when he dismissed Khajja to the instant when the Kilrathi attack fleet dropped out of hyperspace, Kalralahr Gilkarg nar Kiranaka hardly moved from his spot on the bridge. When the blue aura of hyperspace disappeared and the impressive bulk of Centrepoint Station appeared before his eyes for the first time, he allowed himself to feel awed. The object was so massive, it made the scattering of Five Worlds vessels around it seem so insignificant by comparision. And he could only imagine the sheer power that lay beneath the metallic shell. Power that was enough to create entire systems, or destroy them! The very thought caused his mane to bristle with excitement.

With eagerness, Gilkarg issued his order to the forces under his command. "Begin the attack!"

* * *

 **Bridge of Five Worlds Dreadought** _ **Pride of Corellia**_

Thracken Sal-Solo was forced to bite back a curse as he saw the mass of ships suddenly pop out of hyperspace before his eyes. Running his gaze over them, he noticed that none of them possessed the relatively sleek profiles of ships that belonged to the Galactic Alliance; nor the Hapes Consortium, Imperial Remnant, Chiss Ascendancy, or any other faction that was aligned with them.

No, these vessels belonged to the Kilrathi themselves! Despite being occupied with their campaign of bloodshed, they seemed to have seen fit to attack the Corellian system directly. Specifically, they launched their attack at Centrepoint Station.

Thracken had anticipated this attack. To be perfectly honest, he had even feared it. But still, to see an enemy armada bearing down upon his own, their hostile intents as clear as could be, was no less unnerving.

And to make matters worse, Centrepoint Station was still not completely powered up yet. That scientist Doral had admitted that it would still take another hour or two before it would be ready, but the chances of an enemy attacking in that small time period had seemed so unlikely that to Thracken, it was not worth worrying about.

"Fortune pisses on me yet again," Thracken muttered angrily. Quickly shifting his demeanour into combat mode, he began ordering his forces into action.

* * *

 **Galactic Alliance attack fleet**

When the Kilrathi and Five Worlds forces had engaged each other in the area of space near Centrepoint Station, it was easy to see that the battle would be a fierce one. With such a powerful weapon at stake, both sides would fight tooth and nail (and in the Kilrathi's case, claw) in order to keep it on their side.

But nobody on either side could have predicted that the battle would take on a much greater edge with the arrival of the Galactic Alliance fleet. Eager to keep Centrepoint out of the hands of both of their enemy groups, they would be forced to do battle with both of them at the same time, resulting in a massive three-way conflagration that would cost many, many lives.

At Naboo, they had made their final preparations, and then set out.

* * *

Wedge Antilles could not help but feel an intense thrill of excitement the instant he felt himself slide back into the padded seat of the X-wing. In recent years, he had been mainly relegated to serving on the bridge of a capital ship, commanding a fleet against the enemy. When asked why, many in the upper echelons of the GA military stated that his rank afforded him the right to do it. Wedge had responded by saying that he would prefer to be demoted just so that he could go back being a fighter pilot.

After rolling their eyes at this remark, his leaders also stated that, as a premier hero of the Galactic Alliance, as well as the New Republic and Rebel Alliance before that, having him in charge would be good at assuring people. Not to mention the added benefits of a political and publicity boost.

Wedge had simply waved this all off, but accepted the post anyway. Truth be told, he had actually enjoyed serving as the commanding officer of the _Dragon's Claw_ , and it did feel good to be taking the fight to the enemy. Privately though, he still yearned for the good old days when he was behind the controls of an X-wing fighter.

Fortunately for him, however, one more of those good old days seemed to have found him again! The sudden assault at Centrepoint Station had allowed him the opportunity to climb back into an X-wing, and as a squadron leader no less!

As for the _Dragon's Claw_ itself, it would still play a vital role in the battle as the flagship of the Galactic Alliance fleet, but control had been turned over to Leia Organa Solo. As one of the leading forces behind the initial rebellion against Palpatine, the personnel had responded greatly and eagerly to the prospect of being directed by her. Em-Teedee was with her.

As for Han, he would be flying in the battle alongside the fighters in his prized vessel: the _Millennium Falcon_. Even after nearly a century of existence, the battered Corellian frigate could still throw down with the best of them. It had proven this over and over again in battles against the Empire, Yuuzhan Vong, Kilrathi, and many other adversaries. Acting as the gunners in this particular battle would be Lumpwaroo and Tenel Ka.

Wedge Antilles set about getting his squadron into place. Christened Renegade Squadron, after a group of commandoes that had worked under Han during the Galactic Civil War, the fighter wing consisted of twenty X-wings as opposed to the usual twelve, and was comprised of a rather eclectic mix of veteran pilots, some of their upcoming younger ones, a few Jedi knights and masters, and even a couple of surprise additions. It would be their job to spearhead the Alliance's attack on Centrepoint Station.

Sparing quick glances around him, Wedge saw the other nineteen X-wings jockeying for position in the space behind them. Keying his mic, he started the sounding off. "This is Renegade Leader, all squadron members report in."

"This is Renegade Two, standing by," came the voice of Lensi. Though he had been one of the prime wing commanders on the _Dragon's Claw_ , the Duro veteran of the Yuuzhan Vong War was more than willing to follow Wedge's lead for this one.

"Renegade Three, standing by," came the calm voice of Luke Skywalker.

"Renegade Four, standing by," said Jacen Solo, acting as Luke's wingman.

"Renegade Five, standing by," reported Mara Jade Skywalker.

"Renegade Six, standing by," echoed Jaina Solo. Each of the Solo twins had been paired with one of the Skywalkers as their wingman in this battle. Given the close bond between Mara and Jaina, it seemed natural to put them together.

"Renegade Seven, standing by," chimed in Zekk.

"Renegade Eight, standing by," came the voice of Tahiri Veila.

"(Renegade Nine, standing by.)" The growl was instantly recognised as belonging to that of the Jedi Wookiee Lowbacca. Fortunately, the rest of the squad easily understood him.

"Renegade Ten, standing by," uttered the determined and steely tone of Anja Gallandro.

"Renegade Eleven, standing by," said the calm voice of the Yuuzhan Vong warrior, Vua Rapuung.

"Renegade Twelve, standing by." This voice still came as something of a surprise to everyone else in the squadron, as it belonged to none other than the Kilrathi defector, Ralgha nar Hhallas! Despite trepidations from many people, he had eagerly volunteered to be in the squad. His main reasoning would be that it would help to prove his newfound loyalty to the Galactic Alliance, as well as ease some people's continuing doubts towards him.

Shortly before the battle at Naboo, Ralgha had taken it upon himself to learn the art of flying an X-wing. Despite some remarks that he might not fit in the cockpit, he managed to do so just fine, and certainly proved himself a natural at it. Because of these skills, it was determined that he would fly as part of Renegade Squadron. Since most of the other pilots still bristled at the prospect of having a former enemy on their wings, Vua Rapuung had offered to take Ralgha as his wingman. Having also been a defector who had been treated with suspicion, he was all too aware what the Kilrathi noble was currently going through.

The rest of the flight wing continued with its rounding off. "Renegade Thirteen, standing by," reported Valin Horn. His new Kilrathi retainer, Kirha, was still on board the _Claw_ , in a cell. The reason for this was 'protection'; both his and the other personnel on the Star Destroyer. Try as they might, full acceptance was still not in the very near future. Kirha had no problems with it though; he continued obeying his master unquestioningly.

"Renegade Fouteen, standing by," said the sensuous voice of Alema Rar.

"Renegade Fifteen, standing by," chimed in Raynar Thul.

"Renegade Sixteen, standing by," uttered Danath in his usual deadpan tone. Many were still concerned about the Chiss male's mental state, as it was clear the death of Sesha at Naboo affected him more than he let on.

"Renegade Seventeen, standing by," came the voice of the Cerean woman Kari, the ever-present sneer in her voice toned down but still noticeable.

"Renegade Eighteen, standing by," warbled the Talz pilot called Dipper.

"Renegade Nineteen, standing by." Even in the face of death, the rotund Human known as Jolly still exuded his trademark eagerness and good nature.

"Renegade Twenty, standing by." Rounding of the list was the familiar warble of the Ithorian known to everyone as Hammer.

" _Falcon_ here. I know I'm not part of your squadron, but I didn't want to feel left out." Wedge could not help but roll his eyes at Han's dry comment.

"I appreciate it Han," Wedge replied in an equally dry tone. Switching back to his 'no nonsense' tone, he addressed the bridge of his former command ship. " _Dragon's Claw_ , this is Renegade Leader. I am pleased to announce that all Renegades, plus the _Falcon_ , are all ready to get started."

"Copy that, Wedge," Leia replied, with a touch of amusement in her voice. "All other squadrons are reporting their readiness, and all frigates and capital ships are ready to go. The Hapans have got Naboo all secured, and they're going to hold it for us until we get back. I'd say it's time to head out."

"Copy that," Wedge responded before switching off the radio.

It was go time!

* * *

 **And the final battle begins!**

 **I might have mentioned earlier that some of my OCs have their names taken from characters from Battlestar: Galactica. The two people serving Thracken are among them; they were Cylons in the re-imagined series.**


	24. Centrepoint Station II

**CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE**

 **x**

 **x**

 **Space around Centrepoint Station**

 **Corellian system**

By the time the Alliance fleet arrived in the Corellian system, the fighting between the two other forces had already started to pick up in pace. Kilrathi Dralthis, Salthis and Krants tangled with the assorted array from the Five Worlds fleet, and the capital ships had already exchanged quite a few shots with each other.

"Looks like we got here just in time for the party," Han remarked dryly.

"Anyone think we should just sit back and let them destroy each other?" Jacen asked.

"No," Luke replied. "As tempting as that is, we cannot let either of them remain in control of the Station for much longer, and this battle may offer them a prime opportunity to use it. We need to attack now."

"I'm with you, Renegade Three," agreed Lensi.

"Alright then, Renegades," Wedge commanded. "Let's go kick some ass!"

* * *

"Sir, we've spotted another fleet coming out of hyperspace!"

Thracken growled as he turned to the man at the radar terminal. Things were already bad enough. He needed something like this latest development as much as he needed a gaping hole in his head!

"Who is it?" he snapped. "More Kilrathi?"

"No sir. Profile suggests that they're from the Galactic Alliance."

Thracken swore mentally. Having more Kilrathi drop in would have been bad enough, but this was definitely no improvement. "Give me a list of the ships in that fleet!"

The harried radar operator quickly typed in a few commands, and after a few seconds, he turned back to Thracken. "The list has been sent to your screen, sir."

Without thanking the man, Thracken returned to his command chair and pressed a couple of buttons on the armrest, calling up a holographic display. Scanning through the list, he took stock of what makes and models of vessels were in the new fleet. A Star Destroyer, some Assault Frigates and Nebulon-B Frigates, a handful of gunships and corvettes (many of them ironically of Corellian design), a large number of X-wings, Y-wings, A-wings and B-wings…

… and one Corellian YT-1300 class transport.

Thracken's face broke into an outright snarl. _Han!_ His bastard cousin was involved in this attack.

Looking up, he announced in a clear voice, "All forces of the Five Worlds fleet are hereby permitted to engage all enemy fighters; both Kilrathi and Galactic Alliance. I want them all destroyed!"

* * *

While Thracken's response to the sudden arrival of the Alliance fleet had been a negative one, it was noticeably more positive on the part of Gilkarg nar Kiranka.

"I must admit, I am surprised to encounter our adversaries here and now," he stated. "But no matter. More enemies for us to kill, I say." He turned to his communications officers. "Contact Khajja. Tell him that he is cleared to engage the Alliance forces in addition to those around the Station." He turned back to the front viewport. "All are fair game." He had a grin on his face, and he seemed one step away from salivating at the entire prospect.

 _Not only will I secure this weapon for my people, but I will destroy the fleets of not one, but two of our enemies,_ Gilkarg thought gleefully. _Oh, this will be my finest hour indeed!_

* * *

In the cockpit of his X-wing, Wedge Antilles directed his fighter group. "Alright, Renegade Squadron, set shields to front deflectors and form up on me. We're going in hard and fast." The others acknowledged, and the twenty of them organised themselves into a vaguely arrow-shaped formation.

"Punch it on three, two, one, now!" Wedge threw the throttle to full and he tore straight at his foes, the rest of the squad right on his tail. Up ahead, Kilrathi and Five Worlds fighters continued to trade fire with each other. The mass of this deadly swarm drew closer.

"Light 'em up!" Wedge directed, and he depressed the firing button on his stick, spraying the area in front of him with deadly red-orange bolts. Following his lead, the other nineteen areas opened fire. Both Kilrathi and Five Worlds vessels fell prey to the barrage, and erupted in a cataclysm of fireballs and flaming debris.

Renegade Squadron shot through this rapidly dissipating cloud, their forward shields taking the brunt of the fire and debris. Shooting out the other side, they left the remaining enemy fighters in a state of confusion. Wedge permitted himself a slight chuckle and he quickly glanced at the screen. A few of the fighters took very slight pounding to their shields, but other than that, they were perfectly fine. At least for the moment.

"Not bad, Renegades," Wedge said appraisingly. "Alright, now split up and start picking off targets."

"Copy that, Renegade Leader," Luke said over the com channel.

"Leader, I'm on your six," reported Lensi.

"Thanks, Two." Wedge locked on to a lone Five Worlds fighter and blew it away with a quick burst.

Privately, he had some slight issues about killing his fellow Corellians, as well as Drall and Selonians. But given the fact that they were insurgents working for a despicable wannabe warlord like Thracken Sal-Solo, he could easily brush these worries aside.

Wedge decided it was not worth worrying about, and he did another run that took out another Five Worlds fighter, as well as a Kilrathi one.

* * *

"Ma'am, our fighters have begun engaging those from both of the enemy fleets," one of the helmsmen on the _Dragon's Claw_ reported.

"Very good," Leia replied evenly. "Bring the _Claw_ and the other capital ships in towards the opposing fleets and the Sation, but not too quickly. I don't want to give them too much opportunity to take shots at us." The helmsmen nodded and proceeded to issue orders to the rest of the crew.

Leia stood stonily, watching the unfolding conflagration out the main viewport. It was a position she had found herself in many times over the course of her life, but no matter how many times she did so, it never made it any easier. She was constantly being forced to either send people to risk their very lives in battle or otherwise participating in the fighting herself. Both felt as bad as each other, at least to Leia. Individuals like Palpatine would have had no problem with doing the former, but that was the sort of person they were.

But then, Palpatine had been a very self-centred individual. He had only cared about gaining power for himself and making everyone else obey him. It was highly unlikely that he ever held any affection for anybody. Leia was nothing like that. She had a husband and children; all of whom she loved, and all of whom were currently putting their lives on the line in this current battle. All except Anakin, and that was because he had already given his life several years earlier during the conflict with the Yuuzhan Vong.

In battle, it was all too easy for one person to lose their lives. A squadmate would die, and yet it could have just as easily been someone that Leia held much closer to her heart. Even then, they were forced to kill someone on the other side and see them as just another enemy to be taken down, but it was all easy to forget that the person they just killed had been someone's child. Maybe even someone's brother or sister, cousin, or even a parent. And just like that, somebody had their life changed forever. From Leia's point of view, they would have just defeated an enemy. But from another side, somebody would have lost a close and beloved family member. Maybe that somebody was also a child who had now just been orphaned.

At times like that, Leia hated war more than anything else. And she wondered if she was ever going to see the end of it in her lifetime.

* * *

 _I'm not sure who I hate more at this point,_ Han mused, _the Kilrathi or that asshole I call my cousin._ While allowing his thoughts to wander in that particular direction, he still managed to steer the _Millennium Falcon_ with unbelievable skill and accuracy. I was a skill that he had developed early on in life and honed to perfection ever since. Life as a smuggler, then as a Rebel soldier against the Empire, then fighting against the Yuuzhan Vong, followed by the Kilrathi…

 _Damn! Have I ever had a point in my life when I was_ _not_ _fighting someone?!_

A sudden explosion brought Han's attention back to the fight, and he mentally cursed himself for getting distracted by his own thoughts. A quick glance at his screen told him that the explosion had been the result of a Kilrathi Snakeir cruiser and a Five Worlds frigate exchanging blows with each other until the latter had finally given in and erupted in flames. The Snakeir itself was in terrible shape, and some well-placed shots from an Alliance warship was enough to finish it off.

From up the hallways of the ship, Han heard the discharge of laser fire from the turrets, and he permitted himself a grin. Lumpy and Tenel Ka were both doing a fine job of shooting down enemy fighters.

Han had always held a great deal of affection for those two. Lumpy, or Lumpwaroo, to use his full name, had been the son of Chewbacca; Han's longtime friend and companion. The great Wookiee had died at Sernpidal at the outset of the Yuuzhan Vong war. Even after eight years, the pain was still noticeable, but Han had long since accepted it as part of his life, and that did not interfere with the wonderful memories he had of Chewie. He knew that his old friend would be proud that his son had taken upon his lifedebt. Lumpy was just as loved as his father had been.

And then there was Tenel Ka. Han still found it ironic that Prince Isolder had tried to win Leia's heart, and Han's harebrained attempt to win it for himself had not only proven successful, but also introduced Isolder to the Force sensitive warrior woman Teneniel Djo, his future wife and queen. And from that union had come Tenel Ka; the beautiful Jedi warrior princess who in turn seemed to have won the heart of Han and Leia's own son, Jacen.

Call it fate, coincidence, the will of the Force, whatever. It was not without a sense of humour and irony. That mattered little though. Though not blood-related, Han had loved both Lumpwaroo and Tenel Ka like they were family, and he would stop at nothing to protect them.

By contrast, Thracken Sal-Solo _was_ a blood relative of Han's, and yet he would like nothing more than to put a blaster bolt right between the bastard's eyes.

Getting his mind back to the battle, Han noticed that three X-wings were directly in front of him, engaging Kilrathi fighters. Out of the corner of his peripheral vision, he noticed that other enemy fighters; Five Worlds ones, to be exact; were coming at them from both above and below.

Han moved quickly to engage them, while at the same time warn the pilots in the X-wings, when lances of red-orange blasts of laser fire intercepted the Five Worlds vessels. The bolts strafed the hulls, ruptured them, and turned them all into fireballs. From down the hallway, he heard a victorious bellow from Lumpy in the upper gun well.

"Thank you, Lumpwaroo," came Tenel Ka's voice from the lower gun well. "Your shooting was dead-on as well."

Han smiled again. Those kids definitely made him proud. A quick glance at the screen told him that the three X-wings were designated Renegade Four, Eight and Nine. Jacen, Tahiri and Lowbacca. Once again, they were watching out for family.

"Nice shooting, you two," he called down the hallway. "Now hang on, we're going to come around."

* * *

Known to his comrades as 'Fang', Khajja nar Ja'targk bared his own fangs in a feral grin as his latest volley tore through his latest target. The Drall frigate blew apart, and through the flaming wreckage, he could swear that several of the stubby creatures were flying through the vacuum, their limbs flailing uselessly in their final moments of life.

These cretins calling themselves the Five Worlds Liberation Front were little more than a scattering of vermin attempting to make it big on their own, but they seemed to lack any ability to put up a good fight, or even organise themselves into an effective and cohesive unit. The very thought of fools like them in control of a powerful weapon such as Centrepoint Station was downright laughable.

In the corner of his eye, Khajja spotted his latest prey: Alliance fighters. He had spent a great deal of time studying the profiles and specifications of their craft, and he recognised this grouping of fighters as the ones called X-wings. Possessing both speed and strength, they were the prime fighter craft of the Galactic Alliance, and a favourite of the Jedi.

 _This could be an interesting hunt_ , the Kilrathi ace mused. He steered his Dralthi downward towards the enemy squadron, his three wingmen following closely.

When he was close enough, Khajja nar Ja'targk opened fire.

* * *

The rest of the Renegade Squadron pilots in this particular group were shocked at the sudden turn of events. One moment, the X-wing designated Renegade Nineteen was there, and the next it was exploding into a fireball. The pilot had not even had time to cry out in shock.

Valin Horn cried into his mike. "Renegade Nineteen, are you there? Jolly, can you read me? Jolly!"

"Damn it, those bastards got Jolly!" yelled Dipper, the anger in his voice coming through sharp and clear, despite the ever-present warble the Talz species was known for. Almost immediately, he began turning his X-wing to meet the unseen attackers head on.

"Renegade Eighteen, do not lose your calm!" snapped Vua Rapuung, his usually polite and serene demeanour gone. "You will make yourself vulnerable."

Dipper ignored the Yuuzhan Vong, and it came as no surprise when the Kilrathi fighters turned about and blew him away as well. The Talz pilot managed to get out a final warbling cry that was equal parts anger and anguish just before he died.

Vua Rapuung let out a vehement curse from his native language before issuing desperate orders. "All fighters, break now, before they take another shot at us!" He threw his own X-wing into a port side roll, while the other Renegades around him dodged left and right on their own. Out of the corner of his eye, the seasoned Yuuzhan Vong warrior spied the Kilrathi squadron bearing down upon them once again, and his own craft was dead in their sights. Whoever this pilot leading the squadron was, he was damn good.

Bolts of fire shot out again, and Vua took a few shots to his shields before getting out of dodge. Other pilots took similar punishment, but nobody died this time around.

"We're in trouble now," said Raynar Thul, his voice showing more than a little bit of stress. Getting on the com, he sent out a general distress. "This is Renegade Fifteen, we're under attack here! Some Kilrathi ace is tearing us to shreds! Somebody assist!"

"I don't like our chances, Fifteen," warbled the stereo Ithorian voice of Hammer. "The rest of the Renegades are scattered all over this fray." His voice became strained and full of groans as the next pass pounded his ship hard. "Damn it, my shields are collapsing!"

* * *

Khajja chortled as he continued his onslaught. The first two X-wings had been taken by surprise, and had been completely destroyed. The rest of them had become aware of his presence and scattered, but he continued his pursuit of them. They were good though; he had to admit that. They had been able to dodge enough of his shots so that they were not completely destroyed. But to Khajja, that only made the hunt more fun. He would wound them, gradually weakening them for the final kill. That would make it much sweeter.

The only regret he had about that was that he would be unable to actually taste their dying blood on his tongue. Kilrathi were naturally carnivores, and they tended to go for prey animals, usually found on their home worlds. However, in the past, they had also feasted on sentient beings, and those that inhabited the Galactic Alliance certainly fit the bill. They drew the line at eating other Kilrathi, though.

Sparing a glance at his screens, he saw that many of the X-wings shields were weakening. Though they were doing a decent enough job of avoiding his shots, he knew they would be unable to do so forever. He bared his fangs once again. _Sivar must be smiling upon me_ , he mused.

As if to shock him from his self-congratulatory fantasies, one of the Dralthis following him suddenly exploded. Instinctively, Khajja threw his ship into a turn, determined to meet this sudden aggressor head-on. He realised the folly of this move when he saw an X-wing bearing down upon him, the four laser cannons spewing hot bolts of fire at him. Khajja had only enough time to rectify his mistake and get out of the way, at the cost of a quarter of his shields. His two remaining wingmen tried to evade as well, but only one was successful, as the other one exploded as well.

Khajja nar Ja'targk cursed loudly. He cursed at the situation, the X-wing pilot, his wingmates and himself. Turning about, he sought to lock on to the enemy fighter and repay him for his attack. This proved to be a harder task than he perceived, for no sooner had he come about than he saw his viewport being filled by the X-wing once again. The second pass reduced the shields of his Dralthi down to one third.

Looking through the Dralthi's viewport and into the canopy of the X-wing, Khajja did a double take. Was he hallucinating, or was the enemy craft being piloted by a fellow Kilrathi?

Taking a risk, he opened up the com channel. "Attention, enemy fighter. I demand to know your identity, lest so I can tell my superiors whom I have killed!" Privately, he hoped that his fears would not be realised, as the very thought of one of his own people betraying them to side with the enemy; these prey creatures!; was enough to make him sick.

A deep rumble issued from the other craft as the pilot responded. "If you truly desire to know my name, then I shall tell you that it is Ralgha nar Hhallas! Formerly of the Kilrathi Empire, and now of the Galactic Alliance!"

Now that sick feeling became worse, and Khajja sought to keep the bile down. When he was finally able to, he responded verbally. "You betrayed us and joined the enemy? These people are prey to us, nothing more! You betrayed our Emperor and his noble crusade!" While he did this, he attempted to get a bead on his enemy's ship.

Ralgha was not about to make it easy for him, however, and he continued to manoeuvre his X-wing expertly while responding to Khajja's taunts. "The Emperor is a vile and bloodthirsty bastard who has corrupted the hearts and minds of the Kilrathi people! As long as he reigns, we will all be slaves to his bloodlust. If I had to betray my people in order to free him from his tyranny, then so be it!"

Khajja now saw red. "You will die for this betrayal!" he growled, and killed his transmission, focusing all of his attention on destroying Ralgha's craft. The feeling of betrayal was bad enough, but when one considered that Khajja was a Ja'targk and Ralgha was a Hhallas; both offshoots of the Ragitagha line, it was positively insulting!

The two Kilrathi continued their dance of death…

* * *

On the bridge of the _Tresk'Pahl_ , Kalralahr Gilkarg kept his steady gaze on the battle before him. The arrival of the Alliance fleet had made things more interesting, but it had not derailed his plan in the slightest. He had ordered his fleet to continue towards Centrepoint Station no matter what, and he was determined that nothing would derail that under any circumstances. Despite their rugged assortment, the Five Worlds Liberation Front had set up an admirable defence line around the Station. But even that was not enough to prevent the onslaught from a powerful Kilrathi fleet.

No, it was only a matter of time before the defence would fall. And if Gilkarg's fleet could keep the Alliance at bay, then it was inevitable that he would win this day.

Gilkarg stood ramrod straight, with his clawed hands clasped behind his back, and his eyes glued to the forward viewport. But nothing could have stopped the gleeful grin that appeared when he saw the frigates and capital ships defending the Station start to explode. The sustained bombardment from the Kilrathi had finally become too much, and one by one, the Corellian, Drall and Selonian vessels started to detonate.

"My Lord, we have finally breached the enemy line," reported one of the helmsmen. "We now have a clear shot at Centrepoint Station."

A slight wave of euphoria washed through the Supreme Commander. This was a feeling common to a Kilrathi during combat. Their blood would often increase in both flow and temperature as the excitement of battle got to them. Though he was not an active participant in this particular skirmish, the sight of the enemy vessels going down, and the way to his goal becoming clear to him was more than an acceptable substitute for him.

"Excellent," he breathed. He spun on his heel, and began issuing further orders. "Prepare the strike teams. We must take the control centres of the Station hard and fast. Their orders are to proceed to their objectives and eliminate any who stand in their way, whether or not they are noncombative.

"And while you are at that, prepare my shuttle. I wish to oversee the final stage of the operation personally."

* * *

 **A couple of notes for this part of the story:**

 **I chose the name 'Renegade Squadron' sort of as a tribute to the PSP game of the same name: 'Star Wars Battlefront: Renegade Squadron'. (That was from a time when _Star Wars_ games were actually halfway decent!)**

 **The Kilrathi pilot that appears in this battle Khajja nar Ja'targk (aka 'Fang') was one of the many aces the player had to fight against in the actual _Wing Commander_ video game series. The one who shot Zekk down earlier in the story is another one of them. I had planned to use them in the second and third installments of this series, but given the lackluster response to this, I obviously won't be writing them.**

 **It is disappointing, but given what Lucasfilm is doing with _Star Wars_ nowadays, it wouldn't surprise me if interest in the franchise is low at this point. (Seriously, those assholes are killing _Star Wars_!)**


	25. Centrepoint Station III

**CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR**

 **x**

 **x**

 **Around Centrepoint Station**

 **Corellian system**

Ralgha nar Hhallas bit back a curse. This new craft, an X-wing, was new to him, but he admitted that it handled itself perfectly. If anything, it was better than a Dralthi, or any of the craft used by the Kilrathi. But that did not make it easier for him to take down this enemy. This pilot, who had identified himself as 'Fang' when Ralgha demanded his name, was extremely skilled. He had managed to evade most of his attacks. And now, he seemed to have disappeared entirely.

Ralgha knew all too well that it was unwise to become too focused on one specific goal to the exclusion of all other factors, especially given the immense battle that continued around him with the three fleets tearing shreds off each other. However, this particular pilot presented a serious problem, and he needed to be dealt with.

Four other X-wings pulled in along side his own. A glace at the screen told him that the pilots were Vua Rapuung, Valin Horn, Danath and Hammer.

"Still having trouble with that one particular pilot?" asked Valin over the com channel.

"He is proving to be… most infuriating," Ralgha admitted. "Would you know what became of his one remaining wingman?"

"He's dead," Hammer replied. "Danath took him out. Didn't you?"

"I did," Danath answered in the usual Chiss monotone. Worryingly, his tone still seemed more negative than usual. It was something that he had after losing his fellow Chiss pilot Sesha at Naboo.

It was Vua Rapuung who got them all back on track. "Listen, we need to work together to take out this enemy. After then, we can finally get back to the battle at hand."

"Better make it quick," Valin pointed out. "The Kilrathi seem to be getting the upper hand. Their fleet has just broken through the Five Worlds main defence line, and they're also doing too good a job at holding our forces back."

"Very well then," Ralgha said. "I think I have an idea. It is very risky, but it may be our only shot."

* * *

Khajja nar Ja'targk had managed to get away from Ralgha for the time being. Try as he might, he could not get over the sick feeling he was left with upon discovering that one of his own people had betrayed them and sided with their enemies. Khajja had been filled with the desire to take out the traitor, both to remove the taint and to gain the honour from the kill. But that had been denied him. This Ralgha had obviously possessed a great deal of talent, and he would not be caught out easily.

Amidst the laser fire and exploding vehicles, Khajja spied a lone X-wing fighter looping around the obstacles, as if the pilot was searching for something. He felt his blood start to run once more. That would most likely be the traitor that he was seeking out. And even if that were not the case, the desire to destroy even one more enemy was a prospect too appealing to pass up.

Gunning the engines of his Dralthi, Khajja tore after the lone fighter. As he expected, the pilot must have sensed him, and began twisting his fighter into loops, even dodging some of the wreckage that now littered the space around Centrepoint Station. The Kilrathi pilot let loose a volley of laser bolts, scoring a few hits on the enemy's shields, but most of them went wide.

 _A talented one indeed_ , Khajja mused. He accelerated to full throttle and pursued the errant fighter. This chase continued for about a minute, with the one known as Fang chasing after the lone enemy craft, opening fire at regular intervals and sporadically scoring hits against it. It was not long before the enemy's shields were drained, and the hits began to strike the unprotected hull.

Arrogance was a trait common amongst the Kilrathi, and Khajja nar Ja'targk, otherwise known as Fang, was no exception. In his arrogant pursuit of this one particular X-wing, he had neglected to notice that the pilot had made no attempt to turn about and return fire. Had he done so, Khajja might have realised something truly vital. Something that might have saved his life.

As it was, however, he continued to fire until the X-wing appeared to stop moving around, and hover there in space before him. Believing his target to have lost all power, Khajja pressed the trigger and blew the vehicle away.

Less than two seconds later, his own Dralthi exploded.

* * *

The four X-wings flew through the quickly dissipating cloud of fire that had been Khajja's Dralthi. "We got the bastard!" Hammer crowed victoriously.

"Yes," Ralgha added sombrely. "But we were not quick enough to save Danath. Our plan was not a complete success."

Ralgha had come up with the plan, using an old Kilrathi tactic that harkened back to their days of hunting prey animals across the plains of Kilrah. It was known as _haggin_ , and called for a lone warrior to act as a decoy to distract the prey while the other warriors circled around it and attacked. When he had mentioned this plan, everyone had been surprised when Danath had unflinchingly volunteered to be the decoy.

"Don't feel too bad, Ralgha," Valin said. "I have a feeling that Danath did not want to make it back alive."

"What do you mean?" Vua asked.

"You saw what happened to him after Sesha died. He seemed to lose all hope. And just before his ship was destroyed, he just stopped flying and hung there, letting the Kilrathi to blow him up."

"He basically commited suicide," stated the Yuuzhan Vong warrior.

"Exactly," Valin replied, and a thick silence descended over the four pilots. It was only broken a few seconds later by Vua.

"I suppose it does not matter. If there is an afterlife, then they will be reunited there, and we shall honour both of their memories by continuing the fight. The Five Worlds forces are in disarray, and the Kilrathi are all that stand between us and our objective."

Their minds back on the fight, the pilots steered back into action.

* * *

 **Bridge of** _ **Pride of Corellia**_

Thracken Sal-Solo was positively fuming. He had been certain that his forces would be able to withstand an assault from outside and protect Centrepoint Station, but the combined onslaught of the Galactic Alliance and the Kilrathi had been too much, and they were starting to falter. Why did they have to attack at the same time? Why could they have not just attacked each other and _then_ attack him after they had been weakened?

His flaghsip, the egg-shaped dreadnought _Pride of Corellia_ had managed to weather most of the storm, but even now, it was taking a punishment. Its immense size along made it an obvious target, and throughout the conflagration, ships from the other two fleets had scored hits on its shields, bringing them down to the point where the hull was now exposed and vulnerable to fire.

A sudden explosion from down in the depths of the giant warship sent shudders through its structure, which could be felt even on the bridge. Personnel were thrown off their feet, and several panels had malfunctioned, causing sparks to fly.

"Sir, we've lost our main hanger and most of our gun emplacements!" a helmsman cried out.

"There goes another of our engines!" came another cry.

Thracken swore and smashed his fist against the armrest of his chair as he pushed himself up and stormed towards the viewport. Both of the Alliance and Kilrathi forces had suffered noticeable casualties, but that was nothing compared to the Five Worlds Liberation Front. Their forces had been largely decimated, and most of those who were still around appeared to be making movements to get away from the battle.

Cursing, Thracken turned to his communications officers. "Tell those fools not to break the line!" he yelled.

The harried officers rushed to carry out their orders, but the looks on their faces indicated they were simply wasting their time. "It's no use, sir," one of them replied shakily. "They have shut off all communications and are withdrawing from the fight."

Thracken felt his blood simply starting to boil at this point. Looking back out the viewport, he wanted to yell, rant and rave at the participants of the battle. He wanted to order his forces to get back in position and berate them for being cowards. He wanted to yell and swear at his enemies; tell them to leave him and the entire Corellian system well enough alone. To keep their grubby hands off of Centrepoint Station!

Bravely or foolishly, one man, the aged officer named Cavil, approached Thracken and spoke in a calm voice. "Sir, might I suggest that we retreat for now?"

Thracken snapped his head around to look at the other man, his gaze one of pure fury. "Out of the question!" he barked harshly.

To his credit, Cavil did not appear to be intimidated by Thracken's current disposition. "If we retreat now, we will save our lives, and may be able to return at a later date."

"If we do that," Thracken ground out, "then we leave Centrepoint Station in the hands of our enemies, and the entire Corellian system under their occupation. What do you suppose I should do?"

"If nothing else, you should pray that the Alliance wins this battle, and not the Kilrathi, because then you know they will not subject the citizenry to a bloody massacre." Cavil's visage remained calm.

Thracken was obviously not impressed. "It's always so simple for people such as you, isn't it, Cavil?" he practically spat. "The Kilrathi would terrorise the people and commit mass murder against them, sure. But the Alliance will oppress them nonetheless, and exact retribution on them for our actions. No, we cannot let that happen. We contine fighting." His eyes had suddenly taken on a crazy look.

Cavil took a step back. He had stood by Thracken since the beginning of his insurrection, and was committed to his goals, but right now, it seemed the wannabe dictator had lost all common sense. And to be honest, that was starting to scare him.

"I'm sorry, sir," he replied earnestly. "But I cannot sit by and watch you condemn all these people to death."

Thracken's features lightened slightly, and he took a breath. "Well," he replied simply, "that is just too bad." He then calmly pulled a small blaster pistol from a concealed holster at his waist, pointed it between Cavil's eyes, and pulled the trigger once.

The sound of the blaster shot resounded throughout the dreadnought's bridge, startling everybody there. Cavil's head snapped back with the impact of the blaster bolts, and his body seemed to just stand there for a second, then dropped to the floor.

Holding the pistol up so that everybody on the bridge could see it, Thracken swept his gaze across the room, taking in the shocked looks of everyone there. "Now," he spoke firmly, "if nobody else has any objections, we shall continue holding the line."

Nobody dared to oppose him after that.

* * *

On the bridge of the _Dragon's Claw_ , Leia's brown gaze had hardly left the battle. The Star Destroyer now gradually sliced its way through the conflagration, drawing ever closer to the immense bulk of Centrepoint Station.

 _That thing is much larger and older than either of the two Death Stars, and a great deal more powerful_ , Leia mused. She suppressed an internal shudder. Even now, more than three decades after it had happened, the memory of her beloved homeworld of Alderaan being reduced to rubble by the first Death Star struck deep in her heart. The sheer power of that weapon had been terrifying enough, yet it seemed positively dwarfed when compared with Centrepoint.

 _Why did we not take measures to destroy this thing ages ago?_ Leia wondered.

Her thoughts were interrupted by one of the helmsmen speaking up. "Ma'am, we've broken through the Five Worlds lines, and we now have a clear run at the Station."

"Excellent. Prepare to move in."

"Of course, ma'am." The helmsman paused for a second. "Wait a minute… that huge Corellian dreadnought is moving in! It's trying to block our path!"

Through the viewport, Leia watched as the massive craft called _Pride of Corellia_ ; a vain title if she ever heard one; moved steadily to block their route into to Centrepoint Station. Clearly, Thracken was not going to give up without a fight.

Holding back a sigh, Leia turned to her crew. "Obviously we're going to need to take out that dreadnought before we can move in on the Station. I want all available ships on the task!"

* * *

"Alright Renegades, listen up," Wedge declared over the com. "I've just received orders that we need to take out that huge dreadnought and clear the way to the Station. I want as many of you who can do so to form up on me, and we're going to make a run on the bridge. Are we clear?"

"I'm with you, Leader," reported Lensi.

"Same here," said Luke, followed by acknowledgments by Jacen, Zekk, Tahiri, Lowbacca, Anja and Alema.

"I'm coming too," Han announced as he pulled the _Falcon_ into position near the assortment of X-wings. "If you're taking a shot at my scumbag cousin, there is no way I'm going to miss out on it!"

"Fine by me, Han," said Wedge. "Lock in your targets and get ready to move out." Each one of the pilots focused their attention on the _Pride of Corellia_ 's bridge and prepped their weapons.

"Move out!"

Almost as one, the nine X-wings and the _Falcon_ made a beeline for the dreadnought. Dogfights and explosions continued to occur around them, but nonetheless, they focused on their objective and continued to draw closer to it.

* * *

On the bridge of the dreadnought, the atmosphere was tense. Thracken Sal-Solo's cold-blooded execution of Cavil had caused everyone to take an unintentional vow of silence, lest they find themselves the next target of their dictator's outbursts.

Regardless, one crewmember broke this when serious news caught his attention. "Sir!" he cried to Thracken, "some enemy ships are making an attack run against this very bridge!"

The already-tense atmosphere on the bridge turned outright fearful at this sudden information. Ignoring it all, Thracken glared out the viewport at the offending vessels. He recognised nine of them as X-wings, but the last one was all the more familiar to him. And very much hated.

The _Millennium Falcon_. Han!

"Fire on all of those craft, I want them taken out! Especially the freighter!"

* * *

The attacking craft were closing in on the _Pride of Corellia_ when lances of fire burst forth from the turrets remaining around the bridge. Throughout the battle, these had been occupied with tracking and firing upon various targets. But now, they were all aimed directly at the squad gunning for the bridge.

"Evasive manoeuvres, now!" Wedge cried in alarm, just before he pitched his X-wing into a turn to dodge the bolts.

All other craft in the group did the same. The _Falcon_ moved with less agility, given its size, but with Han Solo at the stick, his decades of experience more than made up for it. Still, the shields of the Corellian freighter still felt one of the powerful bolts graze it.

"Dad! Are you alright?" Jacen cried.

"I'm fine, Jacen, just a little graze," Han assured his son.

Two of the X-wings were not so lucky. Despite being a Jedi, Alema Rar had not been fast enough, and had been hit. As her X-wing exploded, the other Jedi and those who were Force-sensitive felt the Twi'lek woman's Force presence wink out as she died.

Lensi also did not move quickly enough. He had dodged most of the blasts, but a couple had still managed to get through. The first had brought his shields down to almost zero, and the second had taken the rest away, while also causing severe damage to the hull. The systems were fried, and the craft practically unable to move any direction. It was less of a fighter craft now, and more of a flying obstacle.

"Lensi, are you alright?" Wedge asked in shock.

"Wedge…" Lensi's weak voice came over the com. He seemed barely unable to speak. "I'm gonna… I'm…"

"Lensi, try not to talk, okay? We're going to get you out of this."

"Don't worry about… me, Wedge," the Duro pilots struggled. "I'll finish… the fight…" Without any further word, he accelerated his X-wing to the best of its greatly diminished capabilities.

"Lensi, what the hell are you doing?" Wedge yelled.

The Duro ignored him, and continued to streak towards his objective…

The bridge of the _Pride of Corellia_.

* * *

Thracken continued to look out the viewport of his ship. He was glad to have seen that at least one of the X-wings had been struck by the bombardment, but it was still disappointing that most had avoided it. And it left him with a sense of distaste to see his cousin's ship suffering only a graze. No matter, he would get him on the next run.

Lifting his gaze, Thracken saw that the X-wing that had been struck continued to fly, albeit having suffered from incredible damage. If nothing else, he supposed he had to give the pilot credit for their tenacity.

It was a second later before Thracken realised exactly where the X-wing was heading; straight for the bridge on a kamikaze run!

He opened his mouth to order his people to open fire, but the battered fighter smashed into and through the transparisteel viewport before he could open his mouth.

* * *

From the outside view, the impact and explosion of Lensi's X-wing sent a shockwave that took out the entire bridge.

With the control centre taken out of commission, the massive dreadnought was now out of control, and now began a directionless course that arced away from the battle, back towards the massive bulk of Centrepoint Station itself.

Pulled in by the massive station's intense gravity, the _Pride of Corellia_ started to pick up speed, going faster and faster as it approached the unforgiving ancient metal surface. The dreadnought was effectively turned into an artificial meteor.

With a massive shudder, the doomed vessel smashed into Centrepoint Station, causing a titanic explosion that rippled along the metal surface. Fire and debris spewed every direction in the vacuum.

During the battle at Endor, the Super Star Destroyer _Executor_ had its bridge destroyed by a crashing A-wing, causing it to plummet into the surface of the second Death Star. Now, ironically, the _Pride of Corellia_ had suffered an almost identical fate.

* * *

Kalralahr Gilkarg nar Kiranka stood back and watched the impact. Though he had not planned it, he still had to admit that it was not an unpleasant thing to watch, particularly given the fact that it was an enemy vessel and not one of their own.

Though he had nothing to confirm it, he knew in his bones that the commander of the Five Worlds Liberation Front was more than likely on that vessel, and it was highly unlikely that he would have survived such a devastating explosion. If that were the case, then there was definitely one less irritation to deal with.

As an added bonus, it appeared that the rest of the Five Worlds forces had been pitched into utter chaos. With the destruction of their flaghsip and presumed death of their leader, they had lost whatever will they had left, and were now either retreating while they still had their wits about them, or flying around, looking for something to do, or some enemy to fight, and failing miserably.

Gilkarg smiled. They would be dealt with soon enough.

"Not unexpected, but not an unpleasant development either," he remarked. He turned to the officer behind him. "Any word on Khajja and his squadron, Shintahr?"

The officer, the Shintahr, shook his head in response. "None, Kalralahr. It is believed that they were destroyed by enemy fighters."

Gilkarg grumbled. "Well, no matter, I suppose. Both of our enemies are in total disarray. It is time to move in on the next phase of our plan. Have our capital ships move in to make a defensive ring around Centrepoint Station, and inform my shuttle pilot that I am on my way."

He grinned again. "Our time is at hand."

* * *

 **Now, in this chapter sees the deaths of two EU characters who died in the same book (that being _LOTF: Fury_ ). The first was Alema Rar, who was a villain in that canon anyway - not to mention a bit of a weirdo. The second was Lensi, who actually died at Centrepoint when he was shot down by his former comrade, Wedge Antilles. I decided to give him a more heroic ending this time, and yes, his death and the destruction of Thracken's flagship is meant to mirror how the _Executor_ was taken out in _Return of the Jedi_.**

 **As for Thracken, the guy was an asshole, and when I wrote this chapter, I figured he was the kind to go crazy and execute any subordinate who did not follow his orders, even when they were doomed to fail. It actually makes his death all the more satisfying!**

 **Ok, the climax is coming up!**


	26. Centrepoint Station IV

**CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE**

 **x**

 **x**

 **Around Centrepoint Station**

 **Corellian system**

The sudden destruction of the _Pride of Corellia_ had certainly changed the makeup of the battle. With their massive flagship gone and most of their fleet in total disarray, the Five Worlds Liberation Front had scattered and run for cover. The Kilrathi had capitalised upon this and moved in to occupy the area around Centrepoint Station. The Galactic Alliance had attempted to do the same thing, but they were further away, and thus were not able to get there in time. It was something of a bittersweet moment; an enemy fleet had just been removed from that vital position, only to be replaced by that of yet another enemy. And one that would have to be deadlier, to boot.

The Alliance forces had not come through unscathed either. It was estimated that roughly one third of their number had been destroyed in the fighting, and many of those that survived had suffered considerable damage.

To that end, Leia and Wedge had agreed to pull their forces back for the time being. While nobody wished to leave the Kilrathi in control of Centrepoint Station for any length of time, it would do no good if they attacked at anything less than full strength.

Wedge Antilles had called the rest of Renegade Squadron back onboard the _Dragon's Claw_. The massive hanger deck was enough to accommodate all of the X-wings, plus the _Millennium Falcon_ , and the remaining pilots gathered together for an impromptu meeting. All around them, deckhands rushed to hammer out the dents on their craft and clean up the scoring marks from blaster impacts. Similarly, droid technicians did their best to ensure that the astromech droids were still in fully functioning condition, as more than a few had suffered some damage.

Wedge sat on an empty cargo container. Surrounding him were the fourteen remaining pilots of Renegade Squadron, along with Han Solo, who was flanked by Lumpwaroo and Tenel Ka. Not surprisingly, Jacen had positioned himself to be standing next to the young red-haired warrior woman.

"Alright," Wedge began tiredly. "We managed to knock out the Five Worlds forces and dislodge them from around Centrepoint Station. And as an added bonus, we took out their flagship. Lensi gave his life to do that, so let's make damn sure that his sacrifice was not in vain." Murmurs from the assembled crowd gave their agreement.

"Also," Wedge continued, "it has not been confirmed, but all indications claim that the leader of the insurgent movement, one Thracken Sal-Solo," here he and other members of the group cast sideways glances at Han, whose own face took on a mild sneer, "was commanding their forces from that ship. Since we did not see any escape craft prior to its destruction, I think it is safe to say that he went down with the ship."

"Good riddance," Han uttered loudly enough for everybody to hear. He had been focused on piloting the _Falcon_ when he saw the _Pride of Corellia_ crash and explode. Had he not been, he would have been sorely tempted to jump out of his seat and perform a little victory dance and the sight of his despised cousin's death.

Still, there would be time for that later.

"That's the good news," Wedge went on. "Now for the bad news. As I'm sure you will have noticed, the Kilrathi have gone ahead and made themselves right at home at Centrepoint. I don't have to tell you that this is a very bad omen indeed. If they figure out how to use the Station, it is going to be an extremely rough time for us, to say the very least.

"Now, obviously, we cannot let them remain in control, so we need to strike at them while we can. Unfortunately, we've lost about a third of our ships, and the remaining two thirds are mostly damaged. If we attack now, it will be a miracle if we succeed. In order to do that, we need to fix our ships, and get some new ones to replace our losses.

"So here's what we are going to do: I'm going to head up to the bridge and place a call to Alliance command, and see if they can spare us any ships and troops." He looked at Tenel Ka. "Tenel Ka, if you will allow me, I would like you to see if the Hapans can donate anything else to the battle." The warrior princess paused for a moment, then nodded in affirmation.

"As for the rest of you, I want you all to rest up. We're going to need all of you at full strength for what's about to happen."

* * *

As Gilkarg nar Kiranka marched purposefully through the hallways and corridors of Centrepoint Station, he was struck by the very design of the facility. Such a contrast to what one would typically find on a vessel or facility constructed by the Kilrathi. Their design was based on sheer basic functionality. Their architects cared very little for aesthetic design; not worrying about whether or not something looked good or matched together symmetrically. As long as the object in question functioned properly, anything else came in second place, if even that.

By contrast, the walls and rooms of Centrepoint Station were all smooth and matched up together quite nicely. So much so that Gilkarg was often left wondering exactly what purpose lay behind one particular room that he found himself in. It was all so uniform in design that it served only to confuse and baffle the Supreme Commander. And this station was believed to be at least a hundred thousand years old, of all things!

Striding to the room that had since been ascertained to be the Command Centre, Gilkarg swept his eyes around the room. Several of the black and crimson armoured Drakhai warriors; personal bodyguards of the Imperial Family of Kilrah; stood guard around the room. Their large assault rifles were at the ready, and their claws and fangs were bared.

On the floor lay the bodies of three Humans. Two of them, a male and a female, lay face down; their blood pooling together to create one large puddle. The other one, another male, was face up. His abdomen had been slashed open and his hands had been pressed to it in a vain and ineffective attempt to keep his internal organs from spilling out. His face was locked in a grimace of pain and shock. All of them wore armbands that denoted them as members of the Five Worlds Liberation Front.

Three more Humans, two females and another male, were on their knees with their hands on their heads; a gesture of surrender and submission. Like their butchered companions, they too wore the mark of the FWLF. In this position, they could do little other than shake and whimper with fear. To Gilkarg, it was both pathetic and amusing.

Gilkarg went over to the sole surviving Human male and leant down to his face. He enjoyed the look of fear on his visage, not to mention the scent of it simply pouring off the man. "Are you the one in charge?" Gilkarg asked in the Galactic Basic language spoken frequently across the galaxy.

The man seemed positively shocked that this Kilrathi would not only speak the same language as him, but also take the time to talk when he could have just as easily disembowled him like the other three. It took him a few seconds to find his voice.

"Y-Y… Yes."

"What is your name?"

"Uh… m-my-my name is… uh, it's, uh… Doral."

"Doral," Gilkarg stated, testing the name out on his tongue. "I am Gilkarg nar Kiranka. I am the Kalralahr of the fleet that just defeated yours."

Doral looked up at the Kilrathi. "Uh, I'm afraid that I… uh, I don't know…w-what a Kal… uh, Kal…"

"Kalralahr," Gilkarg supplied.

"Yes," Doral continued nervously. "I don't know what that is." Amazingly, he managed to finish the sentence without stammering or hesitating.

"Fair enough," Gilkarg accepted, standing up. "After all, not many people across the galaxy are familiar with our tongue. A Kalralahr is what you would call the Supreme Commander of the Kilrathi forces." He looked down at the trembling man. "Who would your Kalralahr be?"

"Uh, I guess that would be… Thracken Sal-Solo."

"Thracken?" Gilkarg seemed somewhat amused. "I find that rather funny, because you see, I have a son named Thrakhath. Very similar alliteration, wouldn't you say?"

Doral looked up at the Kilrathi in confusion. Still trembling he managed to come out with an answer. "I-I suppose it is… rather amusing."

Gilkarg already knew much of the information he was attempting to retrieve. He had researched it quite thoroughly before undertaking his mission. If nothing else, he was attempting to placate the Human and make him more open to suggestion. Brute force was effective, but it only went so far in some instances.

"Tell me," the Supreme Commander continued, "I am told that this station is not only very ancient, it is also quite powerful. I have heard that it has the ability to create entire systems, as well as destroy them. From this one point, it can target anywhere in the galaxy, destroying it with mere impunity. Now that makes for an impressive weapon, wouldn't you agree?" He did not pause for a reply. "So I cannot help but wonder why it has not been used before. Would you care to elaborate on this?"

Doral was positively hunched over by this point; his nerves getting the better of him. "You may stand up, Doral," Gilkarg offered. "While you are explaining, you might as well be somewhat comfortable. And it cannot be comfortable to be kneeling like that all the time."

Doral was left in shock at this point, and it was only after Gilkarg made a gesture with his clawed hand that he finally got to his feet.

Clearing his throat, he did his best to explain while keeping the tremors out of his voice. "This station has not been used before because nobody has figured out how. Centrepoint may be hundreds of thousands of years old, but it was only about fifteen years ago that it was reactivated, during Thracken's last insurrection."

"How was it reactivated?"

"By some Jedi kid named Anakin Solo. Apparently his father is Thracken's cousin, and the two of them don't get on. Anyway, his biometric data was tied to the Stations programming, and so only he could use it."

"And where is this… Anakin Solo now?"

"Uh… he died a few years ago. During the Yuuzhan Vong War."

"Ah," Gilkarg murmed. "A setback."

"But not a big one," Doral continued, his eyes suddenly taking on an excited look. As fearsome as the Kilrathi were, he was still eager to describe his work to anyone, if only because it would convince them to spare his life. "You see, Thracken wanted to get the Station back online, and he tasked me to come up with a way. I found a revolutionary method that actually replicated someone's biometric data without them even being involved. It took over two years of hard work, but I did it! I recreated his biometric data and imprinted them into Centrepoint's computer. While I did that, the workers set about repairing the damage the Yuuzhan Vong did."

Gilkarg's mind began to tick over. "So, the Station has been repaired."

Doral nodded. "Yes, it has."

"And with your data put into the system, then virtually anybody could use it?"

Doral's face started to fall, as he was just starting to see the Kilrathi commander's ambitions. "I suppose so, yes," he answered hesitantly.

Gilkarg's face broke into a predatory smile. "Well then, I'd say it is time for a little test. Wouldn't you say?"

Doral started to sputter, his face going absolutely white. He had known full well the ambitions of Thracken Sal-Slo, but even he had a certain degree of restraint about him. He had only been planning to threaten the rest of the galaxy unless the Corellian system was given its independence. The Kilrathi, on the other hand, had simply come across as bloodthirsty creatures who wanted to spill the blood simply for the sake of spilling blood. To have them in charge of a deadly device like Centrepoint was…

 _Oh no_ , Doral thought in aghast. _What have I done?_

Squaring his shoulders, he looked up at Gilkarg with as much defiance as he could muster; which unfortunately was not a great deal. "I am sorry, but I cannot obey that order."

He half expected for the Kilrathi commander to fly into a rage. But instead, Gilkarg took a step closer, and positively loomed over him. The feline being's breath permeated his nostrils.

"Doral," he began in a slow and deliberate pace, "I am not only the Kalralahr of the Kilrathi Imperial forces, I am also the son of the Emperor, and the next in line to the Throne of Kilrah. If you assist me now, I may see that your pathetic little system is spared from our wrath. Otherwise, I might just be conviced to cleanse all five planets of every form of life, one at a time."

Doral felt what was left of his confidence fade away, and it took every ounce of his remaining willpower not to soil himself at that moment. Swallowing heavily, he looked up at the Kilrathi. "What target would you wish, sir?"

Gilkarg paused for a moment. "If I remember correctly, we attacked a planet called Naboo, intending to wipe out its inhabitants. Instead, we were driven off by our enemies. I believe we should remove that taint. And by that, I mean remove the entire planet." He leaned closer. "If not, then maybe your planet will suffice."

Doral swallowed again. "Very well, I'll just, uh, input the target coordinates."

As he turned around and began to work, Doral was sure that if Hell really did exist, he had just earned himself a place in its deepest and darkest depths.

* * *

Within the ancient and powerful depths, deadly machinery and circuits hummed to life for the first time in years. The last time is had been used was just a few years previously during the Yuuzhan Vong War, when it had made the tragic error of destroying much of the Hapan fleet in addition to that of the enemy. The time before that had been in the previous insurrection when the five planets had attempted to break away from the New Republic.

Ironically, both of those instances had been the doing of one Thracken Sal-Solo.

Before then, the ancient and titanic behemoth had lain dormant for uncounted millennia, just waiting for someone else who possessed the ability and foresight to utilise it again. And now, it was about to strike once more.

And this time, it was not Thracken who would be doing it. No, his charred remains were now located somewhere on the hull of the station, amongst the smouldering crater that had formed upon the destruction of his massive dreadnought, the _Pride of Corellia_.

But in what was perhaps the greatest irony of all, Thracken would have one more part to play in Centrepoint Station's final act. One that would have devastating consequences that not even he could have foreseen.

In his rush to carry out Gilkarg's orders, the harried scientist named Doral had neglected to take note that the impact of the dreadnought had done far more damage than originally thought. It had quietly been assumed that the impact would be merely superficial; which could be covered up with simple repairs and a massive paint job.

This was not the case. Instead, the _Pride of Corellia_ had penetrated much deeper than anybody realised. So much so that certain vital systems of the Station had been greatly damaged. Vital systems related to the Starbuster firing mechanism, and the gravity generator that kept the Station hovering between the Double Worlds of Talus and Tralus.

Had he been aware of this, then Doral would have insisted to Gilkarg that they take some time to properly repair the damage. But the man had been so terrified at the thought of the Kilrathi disembowelling him that he completely overlooked it.

As it was, Doral simply input the co-ordinates of the supposed target; Naboo, and pressed the 'fire' button.

* * *

Gilkarg was the only individual who managed to remain on his feet as the entirety of Centrepoint Station shook with a massive tremor. Everyone else, Human and Kilrathi alike, were thrown off their feet. Doral was tossed forward and smashed his head on the panel.

The Supreme Commander barked out a string of vehement curses in his native tongue. "What is going on?!" he demanded.

Doral managed to clamber back to his feet, blood streaming from the gash on his forehead. Steadying himself, he quickly read the control panel, attempting to make sense of this sudden and unexpected turn of events.

After about twenty seconds, he turned back to Gilkarg. "Something terrible has happened!" he said, his face now positively white with fear. "Apparently the impact of our dreadnought has damaged several critical systems, and the activation of the weapon has sent the whole network into overdrive!"

Gilkarg's features darkened into a scowl. "Well, then, shut it down!"

Before Doral could even say anything else, an alarm sounded from many terminals in the control room. The scientist rushed over to one of them and hurriedly typed in some commands. When he was finshed, he seemed frozen in fear and disbelief for a couple of seconds before turning back to Gilkarg.

"The gravity well putting the Station between the Double Worlds has become greatly corrupted! It's actually…" he trailed off, as if the very thought of verbalising it was too much.

"It's actually WHAT?!"

"It's actually pulling the two planets in towards the Station!"

* * *

On the _Dragon's Claw_ , many members of the Skywalker/Solo family rushed on to the bridge. The alarms were blaring all over the vessel.

"What is happening?" Luke demanded.

"I don't know!" Wedge cried. "One minute, we were keeping an eye on the Kilrathi fleet around Centrepoint, and the next, the entire Station itself seems to be going crazy!"

Looking out the front viewport, in the distance, the massive form of Centrepoint Station seemed to shudder and warp slightly. In the space around it, the assembled Kilrathi fleet had started to disperse, eager to get away from the place before things got much worse.

"Look, Talus is moving towards the Station!" Jaina cried out.

"So is Tralus!" Jacen added.

Sure enough, both of the Double Worlds began to move inwards towards each other, and Centrepoint Station in between them. They started out slowly, gradually picking up speed as they rapidly closed the distance.

* * *

For the first time in many years, Gilkarg nar Kiranka felt icy cold fear course through his veins. The implications of what the Human had just told him were simply terrifying.

He had embarked upon this crusade to capture Centrepoint Station, and add its amazing power to the arsenal of the Kilrathi Emire. With that, they would have brought the entire galaxy to heel. Instead, his own hubris had stripped him of that weapon, and most likely his life as well.

He turned to Doral one more time. "Is there any way to reverse the process?"

Doral hesitated fearfully before answering with a shake of his head.

"How much time is left?"

"Less-less than a minute."

Gilkarg let of a soft growl. "Then I have no further need of you." With that, he struck out and buried his claws deep into the Human's abdomen. Doral let out a sound that was a mix of a choke and a gargle as Gilkarg dragged his hand upwards, further ripping open the man's flesh and causing large amounts of blood to spill out, along with his stomach, liver, and some of his intestines. When he saw the life finally leave the man's eyes, he dropped his lifeless corpse to the floor.

Sweeping his gaze across the computer monitors, Gilkarg did his best to block out the blaring alarms as he watched the twin planets draw closer and closer, bringing with them his death, and the destruction of the weapon he sought so dearly.

"Forgive me, Father," Gilkarg uttered, "for I have failed you."

* * *

The sight would have been considered impressive, were it not so devastating.

Talus and Tralus drew ever closer together, until finally they each smashed into one end of Centrepoint Station. The ancient facility had stood between the two planets for more than a hundred thousand years, and now it was crushed in between them like an empty been can.

Upon meeting at the middle of the Station, the Double Worlds impacted with each other, pulverising into millions of rocks and debris. Those who had been on the planets when the destruction occurred would have been met with the site of the other planet drawing closer and closer, until they finally impacted.

At one point, Talus and Tralus had actually merged together to form one world, but this lasted less than a second, and the remains of the planets continued to crash into each other, destroying what was left.

In the end, there was nothing left of the Double Worlds but a floating field of debris; mainly rocky, save for the occasional bit of metal from Centrepoint Station.

Most of the Kilrathi fleet had been destroyed, but a small number had gotten away in time, jumping back to their own little corner of space.

And through the Force, the sound of three billion lives being snuffed out in an instant.

* * *

 **Ok, so I destroyed Centrepoint, but I decided to do so in a much more devastating way than in LOTF. Although, to be fair, I may have been inspired by the same thing happening in another fanfic.**

 **Anyway, that was the climax of the story. There's only a couple of short chapters left.**


	27. Corellia III

**CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX**

 **x**

 **x**

 **Corellian system**

 **Three days later**

The sight of seeing the complete and utter destruction of Centrepoint Station and the Double Worlds had pitched the remainder of the Galactic Alliance fleet into total shock. They had been preparing to muster their forces for another attack designed to dislodge the Kilrathi fleet around the Station, but now they had to use them for rescue and relief efforts.

Because of the suddenness of the destruction, there had been no time to get out a general alert across either of the planets, and no evacuation had taken place. The only survivors of the Double Worlds had been those who had the good fortune to be elsewhere at the time.

One of the people who knew this all too well was Tycho Celchu. A native of the planet Alderaan, he was offworld at the time when the planet was destroyed by the first Death Star. He had actually been taking a video call with his fiancée on the surface when the transmission suddenly cut out.

In later years, he would describe that day as 'the day I became a Rebel'.

Similarly, Leia had been forced to watch as her homeworld had been blown apart. Grand Moff Wiluff Tarkin had been the one to order the firing of the Death Star's weapon, and had told her that she could save her world by divulging the information he sought. She gave him an answer; which later turned out to be fake, but he destroyed Alderaan anyway out of sheer spite.

Tarkin himself had paid the price when the Death Star itself had been destroyed at Yavin.

But that did not ease the pain of what had just happened in the Corellian system.

Most of all, the one who suffered was Han. A native of Corellia, he had always embodied the pride and cocky attitude prevalent in all of those with that blood. Though not actually from Corellia themselves, the citizens of Talus and Tralus, nonetheless considered themselves to be decidedly Corellian.

And just three days previously, three billion Corellians had died in a matter of a few seconds. All because of what seemed to be a simple mistake.

Han Solo, Wedge Antilles, and all others of Corellian persuasion swore that the Kilrathi would pay.

As the Alliance did their best to calm things down, some of the hardline remnants of the Five Worlds Liberation Front; ironically now down to just _three_ worlds; sought to generate more support against not just the Kilrathi, but the Alliance also. They attempted to place the blame on both of the groups, saying they contributed to the destruction. Hardly anybody believed that. In the end, the rest of the group was hunted down and either eliminated or apprehended. The rest of the Corellian system swore their full assistance to the Galactic Alliance and their fight against the Kilrathi.

"Do you think maybe we _were_ responsible in some way?" Luke mused at one point. His wife Mara was next to him, and turned to give him a confused look. "I mean, Lensi was the one who piloted his X-wing into the bridge of Thracken's ship, which crashed into the Station. Apparently that is what damaged it badly enough to cause the whole incident."

"Luke," Mara said placatingly, "we cannot spend so much time dealing in 'what if's. Lensi made the decision with what he was given with. There is no way he could have known what would have happened. And neither did Thracken, as much as it disgusts me to be defending him in any way. What is done is done. We need to focus on the future. Thracken is dead now, and so is Gilkarg. The Five Worlds rebels have been dealt with, but the Kilrathi are still out there. We still have a war to fight."

Luke sighed and reached down to squeeze his wife's hand. "Yes, we do."

* * *

During one of the few precious breaks that Leia could get from the task, she made an entry in a journal that she had started to make:

 _When I was 19 years old, I witnessed one of the most terrible atrocities ever committed. I watched my home planet of Alderaan be destroyed. Obliterated with a single blast from the first Death Star. Two billion lives ended in one shocking instant. I never thought that I would ever live long enough to witness something like that ever occurring again._

 _And yet, I have. And of all the places for it to happen, it was my husband's own home system. Although, his homeworld Corellia remains intact and unharmed, the citizens of the Double Worlds considered themselves Corellians nonetheless. But now those planets are gone. Pulverised into asteroids, just like my beloved Alderaan more than three decades ago. And mixed among those floating rocks are fragments of Centerpoint Station. Although the station itself was a deadly weapon, and the galaxy is probably now safer that it has been destroyed, I feel the price was much too high. Two billion lives were lost when Alderaan was destroyed. That number has been eclipsed by what has happened in the Corellian system, with three billion lives extinguished._

 _I have been fighting wars for most of my life. And it seems as though there is no shortage of enemies. The Empire. The Yuuzhan Vong. The Kilrathi. Is all this death and destruction the legacy we are to leave behind?_

It was a question that she could not answer. But it was one that she desperately wished that she could.

* * *

 **Ok, one more really short chapter before the end.**


	28. Kilrah IV

**CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN**

 **x**

 **x**

 **Imperial Palace**

 **Kilrah**

"You wished to speak to me, my Lord."

Thrakhath nar Kiranka stood at the base of the dais leading up to the throne. The Emperor was not seated there, however. Rather, he was standing at one of the windows next to it, looking out on the barren and tumultuous wastes of Kilrah. Without moving, he spoke. "I wish to speak to Prince Thrakhath alone." The bodyguards took the hint, and started to file out of the room.

It was only when the last one had departed that the Emperor turned around to face his grandson. His features were neutral and very difficult to read. "I assume you have been paying attention to recent… developments."

Thrakhath inclined his head in a nod. "I have."

The Emperor took a few steps forward to the edge of the top level of the dais, his gaze never leaving the younger Kilrathi. "Then I am sure you have heard about your father's recent failure in the Corellian system."

Again, Thrakhath tilted his head. "I have," he repeated.

The Emperor hummed. "A most unfortunate setback. With Centrepoint Station under our control, our potential for conquest would have been unlimited. Instead, it slipped through our grasp, thanks most likely to your father's foolishness." He paused. "Still, he has paid for his folly with his life. Had he not perished with the Station, then I am sure I would have bright him back here to be executed regardless. No, I am certain that his fate was sealed the moment he chose to activate the weapon."

"I would have to agree with your wisdom, my Lord," Thrakhath intoned.

"Indeed." The Emperor walked down the flight of steps to the bottom of the dais in slow and measured paces. He stopped when he came level to his grandson. "I am sure you understand what this means for you. For all of us. With both your father and your brother both dead, you are the only heir that I have left. When I pass from this life, the duty of leading our Empire shall fall to you." He set a piercing gaze upon Thrakhath. "Do you feel you are up to the task?"

Almost instinctively, Thrakhath dropped to his knees in supplication. "I take the burden and responsibilities offered to me, my Lord. Should you find me unsuitable, then I offer you up my life." Here, he tilted his head up, exposing his neck. It was a gesture often employed by the Kilrathi when in supplication to a superior. Should the superior find them unacceptable, they would use their claws to rip open the individual's neck.

The Emperor did no such thing. Instead, he allowed the ghost of a smile to grace his features, and raised his clawed hand. "Then arise, Crown Prince Thrakhath." His grandson did so. "I have foreseen great things in your future."

The new heir to the Throne of Kilrah kept his face neutral, though one could not deny the ambition in his eyes. "Though I must admit, my Lord," he said, "it aggrieves me that this has happened after we suffered a great defeat because of my father."

"Perhaps," the Emperor admitted. "But perhaps that is not the case. In all likelihood, the battle at Centrepoint Station may be considered a victory of sorts."

Thrakhath frowned in confusion. "My Lord?"

"We may have lost a potential weapon, but we also deprived our enemies of it as well. This rebel group, the Five Worlds Liberation Front, may also have become a nuisance over time, but that is no longer an issue. And not one, but two planets of our enemies were completely destroyed in a way that nobody could have foreseen! Despite your father's muddling and incompetence, I would still consider it a victory. A pyrrhic one, of course, but a victory nonetheless."

Thrakhath's face softened in comprehension. "I… suppose there is truth to your words, my Lord."

The Emperor nodded in satisfaction. "Very good." He turned and walked back up the dais, Thrakhath choosing to follow him. "Our enemies have been greatly shocked and demoralised by recent events, and we can use that to our advantage." He reached the top of the dais, and returned to the window, looking out of it once again. "We must take some time to gather our forces and replace our losses. I feel it is now time to step up the fight against our enemies. When the time comes, we will once again strike and spread across the galaxy like a fire, consuming one world at a time."

The Emperor breathed in deeply, and smiled. "No, this war is far from over. If anything, it is only just beginning."

* * *

 **And that is the end of _New Blood Rising_. I was rather proud of my work when I finished a decade ago, and obviously it is a real bummer that not many people read it online. I'm not trying to dump on anyone who _is_ reading; it's just that after all this work, a little bit of appreciation would be nice. Still, all things considered, it was probably a good thing I never wrote the second and third stories of this trilogy. But for what it is worth, those would have introduced old friends, new enemies, and would have inevitably resulted in victory for our heroes.**

 **To those who have taken the time to read this, I hope you enjoyed it, and please drop a review here and there if you can.**

 **Until next time.**


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